


Chained to You

by SaijSpellhart



Category: Yu-Gi-Oh! - All Media Types, Yu-Gi-Oh! Duel Monsters (Anime & Manga)
Genre: M/M, Puzzleshipping, Shadow Yami, Yu-Gi-Oh Season Zero, ghost au, haunting AU, self-care
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-12-06
Updated: 2021-03-09
Packaged: 2021-03-10 05:22:45
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 9
Words: 33,195
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27918922
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SaijSpellhart/pseuds/SaijSpellhart
Summary: Yugi just moved into a new place. He’s got a great job, an apartment all to himself, and a busy life. Maybe even too busy.Strange things start to happen around his apartment, peculiar noises, objects moving, and lights shutting off. He’s even caught his own shadow moving on its own.Convinced there is a ghost haunting his new apartment, Yugi wants to know if this shadowed spirit is malicious or... kinda sweet?
Relationships: Atem/Mutou Yuugi, Mutou Yuugi/Yami Yuugi, Mutou Yuugi/Yami Yuugi | Atem
Comments: 407
Kudos: 328





	1. Puzzlenormal Activity

**Author's Note:**

> Takes place post Season Zero (Toei Animation Yugioh). Also post the first seven or so books of the manga. There may also be some references to YGO Duel Monsters.
> 
> In-depth Summary: Most of the events from season Zero happened, Yami possessing Yugi, all the shadow games, Death-T, except Yugi never found out about Yami. He knows he experiences memory lapses, but not why. 
> 
> Now he's an adult, living on his own, and he starts to notice strange and spooky things happening around his apartment. When he sees his own shadow moving Yugi begins to suspect his new place is haunted. But is this shadow spirit malicious or... kinda sweet?
> 
> Expect romance, and fluff, and self-care, and Puzzleshipping shenanigans.

The opening of the doorway was proving to be quite the obstacle.

"Maybe if you tip it to the left, Yuug?" Jonouchi suggested over the top of a couch, he was grappling with the side of the very awkward sofa.

"I'll try." Yugi was holding the half of it that was inside the apartment, trying to follow his best friend's instructions. He gave the couch a wrench to the left and felt the whole piece give.

Jonouchi staggered forward, and Yugi staggered back. He felt his balance give out, felt the weight of the couch smash into his chest, driving the sharp corners of his millennium puzzle into flesh. _Ouch._ The wind rushed out of his lungs. He closed his eyes. Barely a half second to prepare himself to meet the floor.

_This is gonna hurt._

But he never did. Yugi felt something firm brace against his back. It gave him a chance to restore his footing and correct his balance.

"You alright?" Jonouchi called over the furniture, he too was able to right himself and pull some of the weight off his friend.

When Yugi was sure his footing was good again, he shot a look over his shoulder to see what had caught him. To his surprise there was nothing behind him but open space. Nothing but the wood flooring and carpet farther in.

"I-I'm fine," he reassured, "I...just lost my balance for a moment." He took a step back, guiding the couch into the living room.

"I thought for sure this thing was gonna crush you," Jonouchi laughed from the threshold, stepping into the apartment.

"I did too..." Yugi said, giving the vacant interior of the apartment another quizzical look.

His thoughts were interrupted when Honda stepped into the apartment after them, his whole body obscured by a well loved recliner. "Don't worry guys, I got the chair from your Grandpa!"

00

They'd finished moving Yugi's things into the apartment in record time. The sun had just started to set, its rays painting the walls with dazzling golds and pinks. It was peaceful. The furniture was in its place, but it would take Yugi a few days to unpack the boxes and really make this feel like home.

Jonouchi was sitting on the couch, Honda in the recliner, basking in a job well done. They were each drinking a beer, courtesy of Yugi, who also came to join them with his own beer—err, hard cider. Yugi preferred fruity drinks. Much to his surprise, Jonouchi and Honda didn't even make fun of him for it. That's why he loved them.

Jonouchi was a blonde man, with longer wild hair, angular features and a lanky body. Despite his lithe appearance he’d been quite the thug in his younger years. 

Honda on the other hand, was a little broader and taller. He had brown hair, with the sides shaved thin. The hair on the top was longer and often styled. Honda was bit of a romantic, and had always been more straight-laced than Jonouchi. He’d even been head of a “Beautification” club in high school. Fancy wording aside Yugi and Jonouchi knew it had just been a glorified janitorial club. 

"So, Yuug," Jonouchi started tipping his drink in Yugi's direction. "What kinda job you land that you were able to afford such a snazzy place?"

The apartment in question was not _that_ fancy. The question prompted Yugi to look around the interior. Two bedrooms, one bathroom, a kitchen, living room, and a laundry room.

"Honda and me still room together because we can't afford something this nice on our own." Jonouchi added, sounding just a bit envious.

_Ok, I guess this is pretty nice for one person._

"I work as Kaiba's expense manager," Yugi explained, he took a sip from his cider.

Jonouchi sat up at that. He leveled Yugi with a piercing stare. " _You_ , tell Kaiba how much money he can spend?" Even Honda was sitting to attention and looking at Yugi with astonishment.

Yugi would have laughed but choked a bit on his drink. "No one tells Kaiba how much he can spend." He wiped cider form his chin with his sleeve. "...But I try."

"I can't believe Kaiba hired you," mused Honda from his seat on the recliner. "He hated us in high school, kidnapped your grandpa and even tried to have us killed during his Death-T event. Actually," he interrupted himself, "I can't believe you'd want to work for him."

Yugi rubbed the back of his neck and tried to swallow back his embarrassment. "Well... he was pretty awful to us."

"He hired armed mercenaries to assassinate us in laser tag," Jonouchi reminded.

"That's true," Yugi stared pathetically at his own lap.

"And he kidnapped your grandpa; scared him so bad it nearly gave him a heart attack," Honda added.

Yugi shrank back and prayed the couch would up and swallow him. The setting sun was making long shadows in the apartment, and his own shadow—thanks to his wild hair—was starting to look like something out of a horror movie.

"Kaiba is better now though," Yugi defended. "After Death-T he had a change of heart, and now he's much nicer to Mokuba."

"Ha!" Jonouchi knocked Yugi's socked foot with his own foot. "Mokuba was a snot too."

"Maybe..." Yugi stared at his lap again where his hands were clutching the bottle of hard cider. He didn't like arguing and it was starting to feel like he was being dog-piled.

"Besides, Mokuba tried to poison you with food," said Honda.

"I know but-"

"What if Kaiba pulls some stunt at the office and tries to off ya again?" asked Jonouchi.

"I've been working for him for almost six months," replied Yugi, he was nervously peeling at the label on his drink now. "Kaiba hasn't tried anything, and he's been nothing but professional when we've been at work. People change."

"Not enough-AAAH!" Suddenly, the recliner Honda had been sitting in knocked back. The foot rest popping out and the back falling; Honda falling right along with it, threatening to tip over in the process. He dug his fingers into the chair like a startled feline.

There was a sudden movement along the floor, and Yugi almost swore he saw his shadow's hand retract from the side of the recliner. But it all happened so quickly it was over in a blink.

"Hahahaha!" Jonouchi started roaring with laughter. "You alright there? Yuug's chair took ya for a ride."

"The damn thing is haunted," swore Honda, pushing the lever on the side to right the chair again.

"So about Kaiba," Jonouchi returned to the topic at hand taking a drink of his beer.

Yugi had had enough of this. He was an adult dammit and he could make his own decisions. He sat up straight and leveled his friend with the most intense glare he could muster. "I believe everyone deserves a second chance. Even Seto Kaiba."

"Woah." Jonouchi backed off and held up his hands. "Alright alright. I trust you." He sat back into the couch and gave Yugi an almost paternal grin. "Looks like ya turned into a man after all."

Yugi relaxed, sneering back at his friend, "didn't want your lessons to go to waste."

The friends fell into easy conversation after that, laughing and joking into the evening until it was time for Jonouchi and Honda to go home. Yugi saw them off with a wave and many thanks for helping him move. When the door closed he let out a sigh and took in the messy interior of his new home.

It was full dark now and the place looked a bit spooky lit only by the light of the kitchen.

Yugi yawned, long and exaggerated, really feeling the soreness in his muscles after the long day and heavy boxes. Through the squint of his eyes it almost looked like his shadow was stretching, as if it too shared his weary thoughts.

He did a double take, and stared at the black him-shaped mass. It was back to normal mimicking only his own movements. He watched if for a good long minute, but the shadow remained as unassuming as it always had been.

"It's a new place," Yugi told himself firmly. "You're just being jumpy and superstitious."

But he marched to a box with a lamp on it in the middle of the room, and turned it on anyway.

* * *

As the weeks went by Yugi began to notice peculiar things happening in his apartment. Sometimes he would find a book laying out, or his video games would be moved about. Alarms would go off on his phone that he'd never set. Sometimes he'd wake up in bed when he was sure he'd fallen asleep at his desk the night before.

This wasn't as disturbing as it should have been though. Yugi frequently suffered from memory lapses. He had since he'd been in high school and had never told anyone about it. He'd always been afraid if Jonouchi, Honda or Anzu found out they wouldn't want to be his friends anymore.

His often debilitating lack of self esteem kept him silent.

Besides, as he'd gotten older the memory lapses started to become less and less frequent. And the things he didn't remember doing becoming more and more minor. Now it only seemed to occur around his apartment, and he supposed it really wasn't all that bad if he didn't remember getting dressed for work, spiking his hair, or applying his eye-liner.

Today had been one such day.

He'd all but forgotten about it when he arrived home that evening. And he probably would have if it hadn't been for the fur-lined leather jacket he'd unconsciously put on that morning. The day was chilly, exceptionally chilly, and Yugi clutched the material around him as he marched up the stairs to his apartment. He'd gotten a few compliments about the jacket today, and even one from Seto that had made him beam.

He liked leather, but it had a been a long while since he'd last worn any. He felt it was a bit _much_ at work, and tended to wear more professional but subdued clothing. Apparently today his subconscious had decided leather was work appropriate, and he was thankful because it meant a warm jacket on the walk home instead of his usual knit cardigan.

Yugi pushed open the apartment door and a smile lit his features. _Home._ He'd lived with his Mom and Grandpa for so long, there was just something so relaxing about having his own place. Living on his own meant no one to cook dinner for him though, and long days meant sometimes he was simply too tired to eat.

 _But tonight I have some leftover curry,_ he reminded himself. His stomach growled in anticipation.

He dropped his briefcase and laptop bag on the couch and made for the fridge in kitchen. Along the way he noticed a few dirty dishes in the sink, making a mental note to wash them tonight.

Opening the fridge, Yugi looked inside, and looked... and looked. There wasn't any curry. There wasn't curry, or milk, or even the rice balls Anzu had brought over for him a few days ago.

 _What the hell?_ He straightened up and smacked his head on the door to the freezer. “Shit!” he cursed, rubbing his head. He ended up shutting the door a little rougher than intended. _I swear I had food in there._

Yugi pulled out his cell and checked the time. It was just after seven. He could order something to be delivered.

"Well, I can order a hamburger and fries from Burger World." He loved burgers after all, and with all the meals he'd been missing lately he felt justified to indulge in his all time favorite food.

Seto had given him a personal assistant to run errands. "For at work or at home," Seto had said. But Yugi didn't like to bug them when he was off the clock. He chose instead to call a meal delivery company, and have them pick up his order from Burger World. It would be more expensive but his conscience would feel better.

Yugi left the kitchen already on his cell and placing an order with the delivery company.

When he got off the phone he moved to the couch to rifle through his briefcase. He had a few expense reports he needed to check over before tomorrow morning. Retrieving the right files he carried them to the desk where he flicked on the lamp.

The light in the kitchen shut off just then.

Yugi span on his heel and nearly dumped his files onto the floor. He juggled the papers even while his heart jack-hammered within his own chest.

"Is someone there?" His voice cracked as fear gripped his throat.

There wasn't so much as a whisper from the kitchen.

Yugi scooped up the the nearest object that could do considerable damage. It just so happened to be an oversized novelty coffee mug with the text "I beat Kaiba's ass," printed around the side. Jonouchi had given it to him for his birthday a few years back.

_Now I'm going to use it beat an intruder's ass._

Silence continued to hang over the apartment. It gave Yugi the courage to creep towards the kitchen. One step, two steps... when he reached the threshold to the kitchen he called again, "I'm armed! And I know how to use... THIS!"

He raised the mug, reached in with his free hand, and flipped on the light. Once more the kitchen was illuminated.

Nobody was there.

The window was closed, and there was no exit except for the one Yugi had come through.

Yugi gave the room a quick search, checking cabinets and under the table. Any place an intruder might be able to hide. Given how vertically challenged he was, and how easily he himself could fit into small spaces, he had quite the imagination for hiding spots. Even checking the cupboard beneath the sink. There were only cleaning supplies down there.

Once he was sure the kitchen was secure he checked the locks on the window.

They were locked tight. And since they were interior locks, if someone had exited through the window there would have been no way for them to secure it on the way out.

Yugi heaved a shuddering breath and leaned against the counter. He clutched the mug between his hands, grateful that it was sturdy enough to endure his death grip. With every breath his adrenaline rush faded, leaving him feeling more exhausted than he had before.

Jonouchi and Honda kept joking that Yugi's apartment was haunted. Maybe there was some merit to their paranoia.

When he was alone Yugi could chalk up the moving objects to his own memory lapses. But the strange occurrences had happened even while his friends were visiting. Times when he'd been fully aware of himself, just like now.

Not to mention all the times Yugi had been jumping at shadows in the past few weeks. Shadows that had looked like another person, shadows that had shifted on their own.

"Is there a ghost in here?" Yugi called.

A minute passed. There wasn't any response.

"You don't seem to be very malicious."

Once again he was met with silence.

Finally Yugi relented, and placed the mug in the sink with the rest of the dirty dishes. He walked out of the kitchen, this time shutting the light off himself.

_*Brrrriiiiinnng!*_

The sudden chime of the doorbell about gave him a heart attack.

And Yugi was mortified to admit that he had screamed. Loud... and womanly.

The delivery man at his door, waiting with his dinner, was more than a little concerned.

Yugi wasn't in the mood to work on the expense reports anymore. Instead he grabbed his iPad from the laptop bag and the food, then retreated to his bedroom to eat and play some Nonograms.

* * *

The next morning he awoke to find all the dishes in the sink had been cleaned. His Kaiba mug sitting innocuously in the strainer with the rest.

The resulting violent shiver left his skin feeling chilled and his heart crashing in his chest.

That afternoon Yugi came home with a miniature whiteboard and four colorful markers he'd picked up from a nearby office supplies shop.

' _Hi!'_ He scrawled on the board, feeling only a tiny bit foolish. _'Is there a ghost here?'_ For a minute he stared thoughtfully at his childish handwriting. Then he added, _'Do you want to be friends?'_

Anzu always said he tried to make friends with everyone. And maybe that was true. But Yugi didn't think that was a bad thing.

Anzu was another friend from high school. Early on he’d had a crush on her. But that had faded over time when he realized they didn’t have all that much in common. Anzu went abroad often to study dancing in the United States. But they would always hang out when she came back to Japan to visit family and friends. 

He felt pretty satisfied laying the whiteboard on his coffee table, but it was eventually replaced by niggling doubt. Was there even really a ghost? His Grandpa had always been incredibly superstitious, spouting about spirits and ancient magicks. He'd even once told Yugi he thought there might be a curse upon his puzzle.

Once upon a time Yugi had believed that his puzzle was magical. It had granted his deepest most desperate wish after all. The puzzle had given him friends. True friends that had stayed by his side through thick and thin. If he were honest with himself a part of him still believed there was magic within the puzzle. It was like it emanated a sense of comfort and courage whenever things got difficult.

Yugi considered the Millennium puzzle he always wore to be akin to his own Ring of Power. Like Bilbo or Frodo from Lord of the Rings. There was just something about it that called to him, comforted him, and he felt naked whenever it wasn't near.

If there was a ghost in his apartment maybe the puzzle was keeping him safe from it.

He rose from the couch giving the little whiteboard another glance. It was a silly way to communicate with a spirit, but he wasn't about to buy a Ouija board. Yugi had seen enough horror movies to know that never ended well.

"If you want to talk you can use the white board," he explained to his empty apartment.

Silence was his answer. Just as suspected.

Days passed and the usual odd occurrences continued. But nothing ever answered his questions on the white board. Yugi changed them up every few days. Still nothing.

As time passed he got bored with the attempts.

Eventually he erased everything except for a simple:

' _Hi!'_

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So it’s been nearly ten years since I last wrote a Yugioh fanfic. But I’ve recently fallen in love with the series all over again. This idea wouldn’t leave me alone and I needed to write it. 
> 
> Please leave a comment with your thoughts and feelings. Especially if you like the fic and want to read more. Feedback is very motivating.


	2. The Spirit in Black

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The title of this fanfic is a Savage Garden reference. I have serious fancy for Savage Garden, and have a history of referencing them in fics, and fic titles, and fic chapter titles.
> 
> But the chapter titles of this fic will be something else entirely. Not an SG ref at all. Can you guess the puns/references?

_Yugi scrubbed his face, and haphazardly crawled out of bed._

_He probably should have turned on a light. But then his eyes would have protested the sudden brightness. And really he just needed to pee._

_It was dark, but living in a city provided trace amounts of light to pervade his apartment. Enough that he could make out shapes on his way to the bathroom. Very nearly stubbing his toe on the door sill, he stumbled into the hallway, groaned, and lifted his head to blink blearily at the darkened hall._

_The door to his board game closet was wide open._

_Yugi stopped dead. It wasn't the easiest thing to make out in the dark, but he recognized the pale shape of the door, and the even blacker shape of the closet interior._

_His gaze drifted over to stare inside, suddenly feeling a little more awake._

_Two bright golden eyes stared at him from the darkness. They were wide, and shone with eerie brilliance._

_Yugi's scream caught in his throat. Choking painfully. He could feel the blood drain from his face as he frantically slapped the wall in search of the light switch. Physically unable to tear his eyes from the ones watching him from the dark._

_Finally his hand hit the switch, and the hall flooded with bright, near blinding light. He flinched, and squinted painfully at the sudden assault. He forced himself to open his eyes, and stared in astonishment at the empty closet before him._

_There wasn't anything there._

_Just his board games, a collection of odds and ends, and some umbrellas._

* * *

Once more he'd made a mistake.

He'd terrified Yugi, scared the young man senseless. Definitely not his intention.

Falling victim to restlessness again, he had decided to wander the apartment while his host was asleep. So engrossed in the closet full of board games he'd failed to realize his host had gotten up to use the bathroom. It wasn't until Yugi had groaned that he'd been alerted to his presence.

The spirit had turned with a start, locking eyes with his host.

Yugi had gasped, made an odd choking sound, and slapped his hand to the wall, fumbling for the switch. No doubt he'd noticed the closet door was open, and he'd seen the golden eyes shining at him from the darkness.

The Spirit had acted fast, shutting his glowing eyes and collapsing into the floor. His shadowy figure melting into Yugi's own shadow once more. By the time the light had flicked on, there'd been nothing but an empty closet.

Still, it had been a stupid mistake. The spirit knew he should have been more careful, more attentive to his surroundings. The privacy of the new apartment was making him lax. He'd never been this careless when they'd lived with Yugi's Mom and Grandpa.

But then, existence had never been this boring before.

The Spirit underestimated the entertainment value of simple human interaction and people watching. Now there was only Yugi to watch, and no one for Yugi to interact with outside of work.

Interacting with Yugi himself was strictly off limits. There was no substantial law that forbid their interactions, nothing held the spirit back except for his own arbitrary principles.

For one, he was terrifying. Nothing but a black shadow with golden eyes, and the glowing Eye of Ra centered in the general area of his forehead.

He had no physical form unless he took possession of Yugi.

He had a cruel streak a mile wide. Having a history of punishing anyone who dared wrong his host, or their friends. Although he'd calmed down a lot in the past couple years.

He had no appearance or voice of his own, and merely borrowed Yugi's likeness as a stand in. Nothing more terrifying than meeting a sinister version of yourself.

Lastly he was a shadow with no memories of his former life. The soul of a gambler from ancient times. Ancient Egypt to be precise, if he trusted the evidence surrounding him.

The Millennium puzzle his soul had been trapped inside was from the tomb of a nameless Egyptian Pharaoh, and even the Spirit's soul room was decorated to look simultaneously like the throne and tomb of a Pharaoh.

A soul room was a reflection of a person's heart. It housed their hopes and dreams, passions and hobbies, true character and inner turmoil. The Spirit could come and go from his own soul room as he pleased because of the magic of the Millennium Puzzle. And since Yugi was his host he could travel to Yugi's soul room as well. Unsurprisingly Yugi's room was filled with toys and games, all bright colors and limitless dreams.

The perfect reflection of his host. Beautiful and carefree.

 _Except for lately_ , the Spirit mused. _Lately Yugi was nothing but a ball of stress, and work, and long nights._

Because of this he'd taken it upon himself to ease the burden of living.

Tonight he was folding Yugi's socks.

His thoughts kept wandering back to Yugi's terrified expression. Shame rolled over him in waves at the memory.

The spirit folded another pair of socks, placing them gently inside the top drawer of their dresser.

He'd made it his "life's" purpose to protect and help his host; ever since Yugi had solved the Millennium puzzle as a young teen and the spirit had taken up residence in the boy's body. He wasn't exactly upholding that personal oath by terrorizing Yugi now.

If he'd had breath the spirit would have released a sigh. He placed another pair of socks into the drawer.

The next sock he picked up had a blurry star pattern drawn on one side. The permanent ink that made the symbol had faded after years of washing, but it brought back good memories.

When Yugi was younger he used to draw symbols on all his socks, and scatter them all over his bedroom floor, symbol sides down. Then he would flip them over, one at a time, and attempt to match the symbols, pairing his socks in the process, before folding them and putting them away. Yugi played the game to exercise his mind and keep his memory sharp.

The shadow would have smiled if he'd had a face. The memory—like all others he'd collected since being released from his puzzle prison—was a treasure he guarded fiercely. He might not remember his name, appearance, or past, but he cherished all the new memories and experiences he made now... with Yugi.

He was sure if he looked he wouldn't find this sock's proper mate. It was no doubt lost to time, eaten by the monster that lived in the dryer and frequently consumed small clothing items.

Instead he picked out a sock that best matched it in age and style, and folded them together. They too, joined their brethren in the dresser drawer.

All too soon the task was finished and once against the spirit had nothing to do.

He spared a glance at his host. Yugi was sound asleep in bed, his usually spiked hair washed free of styling glue and limply spread over the pillows in a curtain of black and wine colors.

There was something to appreciate about his host's style. Yugi regularly kept his hair dyed and spiked. The natural color was black, of course, but he colored the ends of his hair a reddish purple. Yugi's bangs were bleached blonde, and often styled into waves that framed his soft featured face. There was not a single towel they owned that wasn't stained with red-purple, a casualty of Yugi's dyed hair.

He'd taken to buying black towels recently. That way whenever they dried Yugi's hair, the burgundy dye that leeched out would simply make the towel blacker. It suited their aesthetic.

His host had an affinity for black eyeliner, something the spirit could appreciate since it reminded him of the kohl that Egyptians used. The black leather, studded belts, and black nail polish was something else entirely. Yugi was what his friends had described as a "Goth." The Spirit was not sure what that meant exactly but he more than approved the fashion. It stroked his fancy, and he only wished Yugi still wore it as often as he had in his youth.

His host made a noise in his sleep, and the shadow moved away. With one last soft look, he drifted out into the living room to find a book to read.

Maybe if they were lucky, someone would try to break into their apartment. The Spirit found it ironic that he longed for danger, simply so he could vent some of his frustration. It had been so long since he'd challenged anyone to a shadow game.

He grabbed a book off the bookshelf, it was a guide for an old computer game called Myst. It wasn't the most engaging read—but he'd read nearly everything else in Yugi's literature collection—and there weren't many options left.

On his way to the couch he saw the little white board Yugi had purchased a couple weeks prior. The cheerful message 'Hi!' was still written in the dry erase ink.

The Spirit had noticed the messages the very first night Yugi had written them. He refused to take the bait and respond. No matter how bored he was. Making contact with Yugi would clue his host in that something really was haunting him. And then it would only be a matter of time before he connected it back to the puzzle.

 _And what then?_ the Spirit thought ruefully. _Yugi might be inclined to discard the puzzle, my bridge—my link to his soul._ The puzzle was already solved and the spirit released, but without a host the shadow wouldn't have a body to possess, and there was only so much distance his shadow form could wander from the puzzle. Yugi provided him a vessel... and perhaps a welcome companion.

He wasn't about to jeopardize that for a mere conversation with his host.

With a huff, he swept a shadow tendril and pushed the white board to the other side of the coffee table.

_I will NOT be tempted._

Satisfied, the Spirit settled into the couch to do some reading before his host had to get up for work.

* * *

Yugi's eyes shot open. This morning his irises were a burning ruby color rather than their normal amethyst hue. Robotically he sat up in bed. His gaze swept the room almost mechanically, and he reached an arm out to stretch his wrist and fingers.

 _Our body is stiff, my Light._ He pushed back the blankets and threw his legs over the side of the bed. _You've been working too hard._

The Spirit briefly considered a hot shower. It would ease the tension in Yugi's sore muscles before he roused his host and relinquished control for the day. Yugi was still asleep and as long as _he_ had control Yugi would stay as such. Just a little longer for his host to rest.

After the late night, and the scare Yugi had gotten the night before, taking care of their morning ritual was the least the Spirit could do.

There wasn't really time to shower, he decided. The alarm would be going off in a minute. Before it could chime, he shut it off. Yugi had showered the night before anyways.

He ran his hand over the blankets, and marveled at the feeling, the texture. _Warmth._ He loved feeling warmth. He loved feeling the softness of the material on real skin. The feeling of breath entering his lungs, and to feel the beat of Yugi's heart that he could almost pretend was his own.

Almost reluctantly he rose from the bed and padded out of the bedroom, making his way to the bathroom. The carpet was pleasant under his feet, and then the cold linoleum nice in its own way.

Once in front of the mirror he started brushing Yugi's teeth. Yugi's mother had always stressed to her son how important dental hygiene was, and the Spirit wasn't about to let his host's smile lose any of its brilliance.

 _Your smile is one of a kind._ He counted the strokes of the toothbrush, all the while watching his reflection in the mirror.

Yugi's appearance always shifted a bit when he took control. Features got sharper, eyes harder, hair just a little more wild.

He spit toothpaste into the wash basin, rinsed his mouth and grinned into the mirror. Assessing the freshly cleaned teeth.

 _Also I would be vexed if I could not smile at our enemies to this effect._ The smile that greeted him from the reflection was disquieting. The smile of a devil, something... evil. _Perfection._

There was a stirring somewhere in the back of his consciousness. Yugi sensed that it was time to wake up, and his soul was rousing. Becoming anxious.

 _Not now,_ the Spirit chided mentally. _Sleep, my host. You need the rest._

He felt Yugi's consciousness slip back under. Fading into the darkness again. He forced a mental barrier that would keep Yugi dormant until he was finished getting ready.

"We are going to wear leather today," he said aloud. It was Yugi's voice, but not. It was deeper, laced with confidence and intent. "I looked up the forecast, you'll thank me later."

Of course Yugi wouldn't really. He wouldn't even know what the Spirit had done. But what was the harm in pretend...

He pulled out the cosmetics and began applying eyeliner.

* * *

Another week passed and Yugi's long days at work continued.

His host was exhausted, mentally and physically. Their clothes were starting to look wrinkled; Seto had complained, telling him to visit a dry cleaner. Yugi hadn't had any time to indulge in his hobbies, much less visit friends or attend to the apartment. They'd run out of food in the kitchen. The Spirit was on the precipice of possessing Yugi and taking his body grocery shopping.

Fortunately tonight, his host had stopped for a bite at a fast food restaurant before going home to collapse on the couch.

The shadow loomed eerily over Yugi. Golden eyes scrutinizing the young man sprawled over the cushions, still dressed and face pressed into the arm of the couch. A black hand reached out and pushed Yugi's shirt up, giving the Spirit a good look at his protruding ribs.

His host had always been small and thin, but this was becoming a bit excessive.

He closed his eyes. The edges of his form quivered, tendrils of shadow shifting erratically.

The shadow tugged his shirt back into place. Tomorrow they were going grocery shopping. He would see to it. It didn't matter that it would be one of the biggest actions he had taken in a long long time. It didn't matter that Yugi would definitely notice and become extremely suspicious.

A shiver from Yugi captured the Spirit's attention once more. He mumbled something incomprehensible and shifted on the couch.

A bubbling of warmth swelled within the shadow's chest, he swept behind the couch and lifted a throw blanket from the back. With a shake he spread it out and draped the material over his host. Tucking the blanket just under his chin.

Long dark fingers threaded gently through Yugi's hair, ruffling the messy spikes fondly. His hair would have been soft, if not for the obscene amount of styling products that made it defy gravity. The subsequent pleased murmur made something nameless stir inside the shadow.

He withdrew his hand. The shadow drifted back over the couch and settled on the space next to Yugi's feet. His weightless form not even disturbing the cushion.

He pointedly kept his hands—and tentacles—to himself. Reminding himself that he had no business being touchy-feely with his host.

For a long while the Spirit stared at nothing. Refusing to watch his host's face. Then he stared at Yugi's socked feet, eventually he stared at the tv remote and the controller for the Nintendo Wii. Neither of which he could use while Yugi slept in the living room.

Finally his gaze settled on the neglected white board still sitting on the coffee table.

He glared daggers at it.

_No._

An hour passed. There were no more books to read. Maybe he could force Yugi to go to the library.

His eyes drifted back to the white board.

_No!_

Another hour slipped by, and Yugi was sleep-humming bits of some tune the Spirit swore he'd heard before. He wished he could ask Yugi the name of it.

Once more he caught himself staring at the little white marker board.

If the Spirit could have sighed he would have heaved the biggest most dramatic sigh in the history of... _ever_. As it were, he just made his whole form bristle in a mass of writhing shadow tentacles before reaching out, snatching up the board and pulling himself back together.

He refused to manifest a proper hand to grasp the dry erase marker. Instead wrapping a long thin tendril around the pen and using another to uncap it.

The Spirit begrudgingly scrawled a reply on the white board.

It wasn't anything impressive. It wasn't eloquent or wordy. It was simply a very elegant looking,

' _Hello.'_

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I just couldn’t wait to post this next chapter. I’m was so excited, and I had so much fun writing this. The words just flowed like they haven’t done in a long long while. 
> 
> Comments and reviews are appreciated. I love getting feedback. It’s very motivating.


	3. Nobody Sleeps in the Puzzle Tonight

Yugi woke feeling stiff and sore. His face ached, and one of his arms had fallen asleep. With the help of his good arm, he pulled himself into a sitting position and looked at his surroundings. He was in his living room. It was completely normal, nothing was moved about, and no weird shadows. It was both a relief and disappointment.

The arm that had fallen asleep was suddenly rushing with fresh blood, and he could feel the beginnings of pin pricks as the numbness receded.

Sunlight shone in the windows, obscured only a bit by some tacky Kuriboh print curtains. They'd been brought over from his room at his Mom's place. He'd been meaning to replace them with something more dignified, but hadn't gotten around to it yet.

Jonouchi had joked on more than one occasion saying, "Seto Kaiba probably has Blue-Eyes White Dragon print curtains all over his house. And Blue-Eyes bed sheets, and toothbrush... and dildo."

The memory was enough to make a smile tug at Yugi's mouth. Of course neither of them had even seen Seto's home. _Homes,_ he corrected himself. There wasn't a doubt in his mind that Seto own several homes.

A growl twisted in his stomach and he made a face. No doubt hunger had awoken him. He thought about getting up, making some breakfast, and starting a pot of coffee.

As he rose from the couch, he had to wonder, _Do I even have food?_

That question was answered when he reached the kitchen and opened the fridge. _Nope._ The near barren shelves practically screamed their answer at him.

Sitting on those shelves, almost mockingly, were a bottle of ketchup, a half-empty jar of applesauce, a container of deli mustard, two cans of cheap piña colada flavored wine cooler, and a package of processed cheese slices.

He tried the pantry where he kept his dry goods and was equally as disappointed. There was a partial box of instant rice, a box of cake mix that was useless without the other ingredients required, some potato flakes, dried seaweed, stale shrimp chips, and a can of cat food. Not sure when or where he acquired the cat food because he didn't own a cat.

Yugi sighed, and shut the pantry door.

"I guess it's applesauce and cheese slices."

Just as he was turning from the pantry, the door creaked, followed by a * _pwap_ * sound.

He swiveled his head back around, heart leaping into his throat, and saw a single protein bar sitting on the linoleum.

For a long second he could only stare. The chill in his nerves from the past few days increasingly sensitive to anything out of the ordinary ever since he'd _seen_ the eyes in his closet.

Steeling those nerves, he stalked to the pantry and pulled it open again. There wasn't anything suspicious inside, and it hadn't changed since he'd looked not thirty seconds ago. Hesitantly Yugi bent and snatched the protein bar from the ground.

It was the kind that Kaiba Corp stocked in their vending machines at the office. He'd eaten them a time or two on his breaks. Very strange that one would fall out of his pantry though. He couldn't ever recall bringing one home.

With a hesitant acceptance Yugi stuffed it in his pocket. He got out a small bowl, filled it with the last of the applesauce, and made himself a pot of coffee. Collecting mug and bowl, he walked back in to the living room to eat his meager meal. Once he'd set everything down he pulled the protein bar from his pocket and opened it.

He felt a bit pathetic when the first bite tasted like heaven. _God, I'm starving if I think these taste amazing._

"Really didn't want me to eat cheese slices for breakfast, huh?" he asked around a mouthful of food. Finally voicing the question that had been wriggling around his thoughts about the bar's sudden appearance.

Silence.

That was about what he'd expected. He scarfed down the rest of the protein bar, already feeling a bit better. Next he took a spoonful of applesauce, eating slowly this time, but not really tasting it.

Something caught his eye when he looked down at the coffee table. It was fortunate he'd been holding onto the spoon in his mouth, because he almost sucked it into his throat.

' _Hello.'_

The bowl of applesauce and spoon were hastily placed on the table, and Yugi scooped up the nearly forgotten white board he'd bought a month prior. His fingers gripped the plastic like it might break apart in his hands. He could feel his whole body shaking.

The handwriting was elegant, old-fashioned, but not in a way he could place. It was completely unlike any of his friend's handwriting so he was able to rule them out in an instant. Not that they'd been over a whole bunch in the last month. But Jonouchi had handwriting worse than Yugi's. Honda's was more like a professional, neat, crisp, and more than a little dull. Anzu still wrote like a high school girl; hers was easily recognizable for its extra adorable frills.

So that left Yugi to settle on the most damning conclusion.

_There is a house ghost. And it answered me!_

Either that or someone broke into his apartment _only_ to write on his white board. He cast a look about his place, there wasn't anything of value missing. This theory seemed highly unlikely.

_Oh, but a ghost seems the most likely?_ He remembered the eyes in the dark, shining pits of molten gold. They had stared at him like they could look straight through him and into his soul. He shuddered. _Maybe this isn't such a great idea. Making contact with a spirit when I have no idea if it's malevolent or benevolent._

The protein bar wrapper was sitting innocuously on the coffee table where he'd discarded it. For a brief moment he felt kinda like a small animal that was being bought over with treats. Yugi snorted audibly at that thought. If this specter really wanted to lure him into a false sense of security with food it wouldn't be using cheap, gross protein bars.

"If you want my soul you'll have to give me something fancy to eat," he said, feeling a fragile surge of confidence at the levity of his statement. "Like a hamburger. Made with Kobe beef, and nice caramelized onions, and the most amazing melty cheese." He thought for another long moment and added, "topped with Dijon Ketchup and bacon made from the belly of a boar god."

A warmth bloomed against Yugi's chest. The puzzle hanging around his neck—an inverted pyramid constructed of various small and complex solid gold puzzle pieces—felt oddly warmer than usual and... lighter? He placed a hand on it and the sensation quickly faded.

His thoughts muddled about at the implications. The puzzle was a gift from his grandfather. He'd gotten it as a kid and it had taken him eight years to put it together. He'd worn it nearly everyday since then. It was his talisman of protection. He took comfort in that it was working even now.

_This ghost can't harm me._

With newfound resolve he used his sleeve to clear the board and uncapped the purple dry erase marker. The felt tip made excited squeaks as he wrote out his questions.

' _What's your name?'_

' _Are you friendly?'_

' _Do you live here?'_

That was simple enough, Yugi thought. Easy questions that wouldn't require more than a yes or no. Except for the name one. But then introductions were usually key for the start of any relationship.

"My name is Yugi Mutou," he announced to the emptiness of his living room. And hoped that whatever spirit haunted the building was listening to him.

* * *

"I know," the Spirit answered from the depths of his soul room. A place that was simultaneously located inside the puzzle and Yugi's heart.

Inside this room, in this alternate plane, he was substantial. Not the malleable and incorporeal shadow that he was on the living plane. The visage he wore was Yugi's however—or rather how Yugi looked during possession—because he had no memory of his own appearance. There was a difference though, the Spirit's skin was the color of toasted spices, rich and brown. A personal expression of his Egyptian heritage.

He was lazily perched on his throne. His crossed legs thrown over the arm of the intricately carved stone throne, and he was leaning on one elbow, his head propped up with his palm. An amused smile playing at the corner of his mouth.

Yugi's voice echoed into his chamber like it had traveled through empty halls to reach him. His own words would not reach Yugi though.

The Spirit's burning ruby-red eyes stared at the viscous shadows that concealed the corners of his room, but he wasn't actually seeing them. His attention was focused on what his host was doing.

A mix of restless excitement churned within the Spirit. It was drowning out the once powerful resolve of no contact.

This was it. There was no going back.

  
  


Night couldn't come quickly enough. He was practically oozing at the edges of his host's shadow. The effort to keep himself contained to the proper shape was immense.

Because it was the weekend, Yugi did not have to work. He'd gone grocery shopping much to the Spirit's relief. The fridge, freezer, and pantry were stocked near to bursting with food. Yugi wouldn't be hungry for at least a little while. One crisis averted.

The rest of the day was spent relaxing. Yugi played some video games, sorted his trading cards, did a little bit of paperwork he'd brought home with him, then fell into bed after a long hot shower.

When the sounds of even breathing reached him, the Spirit finally oozed from Yugi's shadow. Sliding off the bed and onto the floor, he rose up and opened golden eyes to peer silently at his host.

Yugi was sound asleep. He'd been watching something on his iPad when he'd drifted off. The video was still quietly playing away, the device laying on his chest.

The Spirit reached out and shut the iPad off. The screen falling to black. He placed the device on the bedside table.

A shadowed hand reached out to touch Yugi's freshly washed hair; it would be soft without all the styling products. But he quickly withdrew.

Suddenly the shadow swept from the room, his form drifting purposely across the floor, he made his way to the living room.

The white board was just where it always was, sitting on the coffee table. The amiable 'hi,' that had marked the white face was gone.

The Spirit settled onto the couch and picked up the board to read the new messages cheerfully scrawled in Yugi's charming handwriting.

They were familiar questions.

A shadow tentacle detached itself from the Spirit's form and wrapped around a red marker. A tendril forming from the same tentacle uncapped the pen. He raised it over the board and the tentacle reformed itself into the proper shape of a hand.

' _What's your name?'_

The edges of his form leapt and quivered like a flame. He could not answer this.

' _Are you friendly?'_

_That_ was a loaded question. And for the majority of people the answer would be a "no." It would however, be unsettling to reply, "only to you."

If he could have frowned, he would have. This was going to be a bit harder than he'd first anticipated. The honest truth might scare his host, so a bit of finesse would be required.

He touched the marker to the board and began writing.

* * *

Yugi checked the white board the next morning after he'd prepared himself an omelette for breakfast. His squeal of delight broke the silence in the room. He practically threw the food down at the sight of that elegant handwriting in red dry erase ink.

' _Are you friendly?'_

' _Yes.'_

Yugi beamed at that. _The ghost is friendly_. A weight lifted from his heart that had been pressing down on him ever since he'd moved in. _Friendly. Like Casper the friendly ghost._ He shuddered at the memory of the eyes. His brain creatively imagined Casper with empty golden eyes. It was enough to make goose bumps prickle his skin.

' _Do you live here?'_

' _For now.'_

Yugi furrowed his brow. That seemed to imply that the ghost was not permanently tethered to the apartment. But it could also mean the ghost didn't intend to _stay_ tethered to the apartment. He resolved to get clarification eventually. Maybe he could even help the ghost pass on?

He noticed that the question, _'What's your name?'_ was curiously unanswered. The space beneath it left blank.

A swell of disappointment rolled over him. But he quickly swallowed it back down. He knew what his next question would be.

He snatched up the purple marker again, wiped the white surface clean, and wrote out his new question.

' _Do you have a name?'_

It took a bit longer to decide on his next question.

' _Why are you here?'_

That seemed innocent enough. The ghost was welcome to interpret it however it pleased. It wasn't as direct as _'How did you die?'_ Which Yugi thought might be rude. Asking about someone's death felt too intrusive, and tactless.

The last question was a repeat of one he'd asked before. But now that the ghost seemed responsive he wanted to try again.

' _Do you want to be friends?'_

If the ghost was friendly, it stood to reason that Yugi could make friends with it. _Right?_ And if it was talking to him then was it safe to assume the ghost wanted to try to be friends?

He sure hoped so.

The day was spent with a noticeable lightness in his heart. Yugi was hyper aware of the white board, frequently checking it, but also making sure to leave it alone for hours at a time. He tried his hardest to stay busy, occupying himself with laundry, vacuuming, a walk around the block, even cleaning the bathroom. But the ghost never touched the dry erase board. Eventually, he retreated to his bedroom to play Plants vs Zombies 2 on his iPad.

He made a proper dinner for the first time in what felt like weeks. Pork chops and mixed vegetables with rice. It tasted amazing and it made his kitchen smell equally so. Washing the dishes afterward felt more like a task of honor than a chore. You didn't have a lot of dishes to wash when you hardly ate anything.

Also, he felt a tiny bit guilty whenever he woke up to find that somebody—or something—had already washed them.

_Or it could have been yourself,_ he reminded morosely. _During one of those damn lapses._ That made him feel more than a little defective. He pushed those thoughts aside.

Yugi crawled into bed that night feeling anxious and practically vibrating with nervous jitters.

To settle his nerves he put on a YouTube video of a Super Metroid speedrun. Once upon a time he'd had aspirations to speedrun a video game, but his busy life never left time to pursue that avenue. None the less, the video was entertaining and a welcome distraction.

He fell asleep dreaming about shifting shadows and piercing golden eyes.

  
  


The spirit narrowed his eyes at tonight's questions.

It was a point of chagrin that he couldn't remember his own name. He thought of giving Yugi a fake name, but any title he would have given himself felt insincere and empty. Lacking significance because it held no value to him. Clutching dignity around himself like a cloak, he humbled himself to admitting the truth.

' _Why are you here?'_ proved to be equally as difficult to answer. His whole mass shifted restlessly, the edges of his form rippling. _Yes, why indeed. Why is my soul anchored to a magical puzzle? Why was I imprisoned? And why am I unable to rest? How long must I walk this plane neither truly existing or dying? And what greater purpose must I serve to my gods before I am free?_

The marker squeaked as he wrote a considerably less existential answer.

The last question on the board made his eyes smile. It was just like Yugi to ask this. The restless frustration from the previous questions whooshed out of him like a balloon. A big emotional balloon.

If a marker could have squeaked happily, this one did.

* * *

' _Do you have a name?'_

' _Not one that I recall.'_

Well that explained why the ghost never answered the first question.

Yugi was perched on the edge of the couch. His work clothes were fresh, pressed and wrinkle free, the subtle scent of cologne clinging to the fabric. His haired was coiffed into its usual spiky style. He was ready to walk out the door and it wasn't even time to leave yet. Having woken up extra early to get ready for work, so he'd have time to respond to his ghostly roommate if it responded last night.

It had.

He may have internally shrieked.

' _Why are you here?'_

' _Because I must exist somewhere.'_

"Well that's bleak," he said grimly to himself, "and ambiguous..."

A pillow fell off the couch, nearly startling Yugi from his seat. He stared at it, and then at the spot where it had been for nearly thirty seconds.

When nothing else happened he scooped it up and replaced it on the couch.

He wasn't actually sure if it was the ghost responding to him, but he interpreted it to mean something along the lines of, "Hey, I don't criticize your lifestyle."

' _Do you want to be friends?'_

' _Perhaps.'_

"Well, that's just being evasive," Yugi remarked aloud, having read the answer to his last question. "What's this 'Perhaps?' Do you want to be my friend or not?"

This time several decorative pillows toppled off the couch and onto the floor.

His heart jumped into his throat, pulse pounding in his ears. This was definitely the ghost. If the responses on the white board had not given him validation to its existence already, this definitely did.

"Now you're being a toddler," Yugi accused a little shakily to the pillows. He picked them up one by one and replaced them on the couch.

One of the pillows he'd just replaced flew off the couch again like someone had kicked it.

"I'm not the one being cryptic and frustrating with all my answers. That's you."

And just like that, the pillows were left alone. He was able to finish putting them back without another one going flying. A silence fell over the living room, it wasn't really any different from the usual quiet of the apartment, but it felt awkward to Yugi.

"So... you don't have a name," he began, and if he sounded nervous it was because he was. His eyes drifted about the room searching the corners for the ghost. "What if I give you a name?"

None of the pillows went flying, so Yugi took that as a good sign.

"Whenever I've seen you—at least I think I've seen you—you're always a shadow. You look like my shadow..." He played nervously with his bangs, eyes still darting around the apartment, checking to see which shadows would move. "What if I call you Yami? It means Darkness." The explanation felt very foolish. If the ghost spoke his language of course it would know what yami meant.

Yugi didn't know whether to be relieved or disappointed by the following silence and lack of activity.

"I guess we'll think about that? We can come up with a better name if you don't like it. It was probably a bit too 'on the nose.'"

He grabbed his briefcase and laptop bag, slinging them over his shoulder as he headed for the coat closet. "I have to go to work now," he called over his shoulder and pulled out a familiar fur-lined leather jacket. The puzzle at his neck felt a little warm, but only for a moment.

Yugi stopped at the front door, his hand on the knob, to add a tentative, "Have a good day?"

Silence.

Not really sure what else to say, he felt more than a little awkward leaving the house.

Over the next eight hours he thought long and hard about names. All kinds of names. Any name he could think of that might suit a shadowy golden-eyed ghost, and maybe even some that didn't. If it came down to it, he would just have to throw names at the wall like slices of bologna and simply see which one stuck.

When he returned home from work, and after he'd hung up his jacket and set his things aside, he noticed that the white board had been swept clean.

All the questions and answers from that morning were gone. In their place, in the familiar red ink, was the word, "Yami," written boldly and eloquently. It took up almost the entire surface of the tiny white board.

"Yami, it is." Yugi affirmed. There was a smile in his voice that he couldn't even begin to hide and he beamed.

He picked up the white board, taking a minute to appreciate the name scrawled across it. There was a reluctance to erase the board this time, but he finally scrubbed his sleeve over it. Wiping the name away.

Then he reached down, snatched up the purple marker, and wrote:

' _Do you like games?'_

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I feel like I’m on a roll. Have fun with my chapter puns. Can you guys guess the theme? 
> 
> I was really nervous about this chapter, I tried to make it interesting.


	4. Shadowraiser

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Mild reference to DSOD, but not canon to the movie. 
> 
> I had some fun with this chapter. You’ll get to see what the characters get up to while Yugi is at work. But things should progress more in the next one.

‘ _Do you like Games?’_

‘ _Oh yes’_

An absolute thrill rushed down Yugi's spine upon reading the ghost's answer. It left shivers in its wake.

He wasted no time collecting a piece of paper from the printer, and using a black marker to draw out a Tic Tac Toe board. It was the simplest game he could think of, that required little to no explanation. Practically anyone could play Tic Tac Toe, and the ghost already proved it could use a marker.

"I'll be X's," he called to his empty apartment. Sure that the haunt would hear him. "You'll be O's. We take turns filling in the boxes, the first one to get three in a row wins."

Yugi drew an X in the middle of the board.

Then he grabbed up his things, and stopped in the kitchen to stuff a piece of toast with jam in his mouth; somehow bread had already found its way to the toaster, toasted, and was popped and waiting for him. A check of the time, _running late_ , Yugi launched out the door to work.

He didn't even notice the shadows beneath the coffee table drop a red marker and rush out the door after him, disappearing into his own shadow before the front door closed.

* * *

_Yami_

The spirit adjusted his position on the throne.

_Yami..._

Red eyes burned under the shadows cast by his blonde bangs. They observed his surroundings with a new consideration. The thick darkness obscuring the corners of his soul room felt more intimate today. They weren't cloying and intrusive, but more an extension of himself.

_I am blackness. The shadow of my host, and a darkness dwelling within his heart._

_Yami._

He found the name incredibly fitting. And because Yugi had given it to him he cherished it more than any treasure. He would embrace the name. And if he was _Darkness,_ well, then perhaps the shadows... they weren't so bad.

Yami shifted on his throne once more, the carved stone unusually uncomfortable today.

Yugi had taken the metro to work, rather than drive his car, and the sounds of city, trains, and a myriad of voices echoed into Yami's chambers. The sound far away, and washed out. Like a radio barely catching a signal. But Yugi's voice was always more clear. When his host spoke, it was like the radio suddenly tuned in, before dropping out once more.

He found himself rolling upside down. Head hanging off the seat of the throne, and legs propped up against the back. Yami stared restlessly at the ceiling.

 _I'm bored._ Brown fingers threaded over his stomach and he tapped the toes of his boots together. _I wanted to play the game..._

He wanted to wander out of the puzzle, and observe the people on the train. Observe his host on the train. But it was too public. And should Yugi notice anything odd about his shadow it would ruin the allusion that Yami was only a mere apartment ghost. And for now it felt safer to let Yugi continue to believe it was his home that was haunted, rather than his actual person.

The sounds of city and metro station cutting out completely alerted him that they'd reached Yugi's work place. He could envision it in his mind's eye, the towering skyscraper of Kaiba Corp. The grandiose upper floors taking a bite out of the sky like some monstrous dragon, and the building's windows glinting in the sun like so many scales.

Work meant a private office, and a busy host... and if shadows went to play in Kaiba's office who would notice?

Yami righted himself, combing fingers through his spiked hair in a vain attempt to set it to rights again. But it was a messier mirror of Yugi's, it would never be put to rights.

He shut his eyes and let his consciousness drift away, out of the plane within Yugi's heart and into the plane of the living. His human form dissolved away, and everything faded into malleable blackness. When he opened his eyes again, he was peering out into the world through Yugi's shadow.

They were in the elevator of the Kaiba Corp building. The lights overhead rendering Yami nothing more than a dark puddle around Yugi's feet.

Up up up, they went. The elevator passing floors by at a speed that often made Yugi feel queasy.

Yugi's office was near the top of the building, only two floors below Kaiba's office. It was presumed that the eccentric CEO of Kaiba Corp wanted to keep his greatest rival close. And most days Yugi didn't mind the position because he got paid well.

Even if he had his suspicions that Kaiba didn't _really_ keep him around to manage his expenses.

Yami followed along with Yugi out of the elevator. They trekked the familiar path to his office, and once inside, he wasted no time oozing up the wall and into the air vents the moment Yugi's back was turned.

He observed his host briefly from the security of the air vent. Watching his host boot up the computer, open his brief case and prepare for a day of pouring over the books, and approving or denying expense requests.

Yami could have yawned.

He waited, and watched. If Yugi were doing anything else Yami would have enjoyed watching him, but as it were Yami stared listlessly at all the paperwork, computers, and numbers. He waited a good long while, golden eyes shining duller than usual behind vent slats, until he was sure nothing exciting was going to happen. Then the inky black shadow slithered deeper into the ventilation. He followed more familiar paths up and up, until he could feel his soul straining at the limits of his tether.

Dark tendrils curled around another set of vent slats. A soulless gaze peered into a spacious office more grandiose and elegant than any in the entire building. There was a massive mahogany desk inside, laden with computers and paperwork. The walls were lined with shelves, cabinets, display cases, potted plants, and control panels. Pedestals stood within the office, displaying statues of Blue-Eyes White Dragons, and next to a large white leather sofa was a table with an elaborate holographic Chess board. Each of the pieces Blue-Eyes in theme.

But the office was vacant of any occupants.

Yami pushed himself through the slats, oozing down the wall like a waterfall of ink, before coalescing into a Yugi shaped mass once more.

Golden eyes blinked open at his surroundings, bringing the whole room into better focus.

He drifted purposely towards the chess board; circled the board, once, twice, studying the layout of each piece with careful consideration. Many of the pieces were already moved around from previous plays, and Yami reached a hand down to move a black bishop across the board, taking a vulnerable white knight.

The board responded by highlighting the white pieces, signaling it was White's turn to move again.

Satisfied, Yami drifted away. He would wait until tomorrow to make his next move.

Oddly enough, he was far more excited to start playing the game with the paper and the markers at home with his host, rather than mucking around with this gaudy chess game.

He worked his way towards one of the shelves. Pausing in front of a display of Duel Monsters figures. Mostly populated by Blue-Eyes figures, but there was at least a single Dark Magician among them.

Shadowed arms slipped behind the glass panes, picking up one of the Blue-Eyes and manipulating the joints until the dragon was on all fours, head bowed low. He did this to three others. Setting them all around the Dark Magician like penitent dogs bowing to their master. With the last dragon he adjusted it so it too was on all fours, but it's head was placed level and nose right up against, the Dark Magician's crotch.

Golden eyes arched in amusement, and shadow fingers retracted from the case.

What he wouldn't give to be a fly on the wall when Kaiba returned to his office today.

Yami continued around the office. Poking around paperwork, reading over Kaiba's latest schemes. All the while keeping an eye open for anything that might be concerning to Yugi. Should Kaiba ever try to double cross his host again, Yami wanted to be all too prepared and one step ahead of those plans.

But there was nothing amiss.

So he took this moment to settle into Seto Kaiba's ridiculously tall backed desk chair, and spun it to face the wall comprised entirely of windows.

His golden eyes stared down at the city. One dark leg crossing over the other, and shadow hands steepled fingers before him. It was his best impression of Kaiba.

For a long while he appreciated the view. Cars, like tiny ants, traveled the streets below. Sunshine glinted off neighboring buildings and skyscrapers. The occasional helicopter buzzed by. As far as the eye could see the city was alive and busy. And from Yami's vantage point he bore witness to all of it. Like the king of a city comprised of metal, glass, and concrete.

He noted this was Seto Kaiba's view everyday. And it was no wonder the man had an ego the size of a horse's ass. _Twelve asses._ This view alone was enough to make even the spirit feel power drunk.

It must have been an hour or more, relaxing in the luxury of the chair and the sleek modern surroundings. The sunlight shining through the glass would be warm, it's rays falling on him, but unable to penetrate his darkness. Though Yami couldn't feel warmth as a shadow, he remembered how the sun felt on Yugi's skin. The sun was heat, light, love, and life, a blessing from Ra.

He closed his eyes to bask in it.

A feeling of exasperation suddenly overwhelmed Yami. It chased away his previous contentment. He shot up from the chair as emotions bled into him like wine spilt over canvas.

_Exasperation laced with... affection?_

Immediately recognizing these emotions were not his own.

Darkness shot over the floor and up the wall, wriggling back into the air vents with enough force to dent one of the slats.

* * *

"Yugi!"

The door to his office was thrown open. Yugi didn't even lift his eyes from the expense reports covering his desk.

"Do we have the budget to construct an elevator to space?" Seto Kaiba demanded as he stood in the door. His frame casting an imposing shape in the threshold.

Growth spurts had been generous to Seto into adulthood. He was over six feet tall, and pretty much towered over Yugi, who was a whopping 4'10" and a half.

"No."

"You haven't even checked over the budget yet."

"That's because I already know we can't afford it." Yugi continued to check numbers on his current file. "Why do you need an elevator to the moon anyway?"

"It's to space," Seto corrected gruffly, "and Jeff Bezos bought a rocket, so I want an elevator."

"Where would it even go?" He was just humoring his employer at this point.

"To my space station," Seto explained, matter-of-fact.

"You don't have a space station."

"I will soon. I started construction plans on one last month."

Yugi thought, and recalled Seto storming into his office to ask if he could afford a space station when he'd first started. At first he’d assumed Seto was playing a trick on him. Joking. Yugi quickly learned he was dead serious. He had tentatively told Seto "no," because honestly it was an outrageous expense and it was not something the company could afford without drawing funds away from other projects Seto had also deemed "important."

It seemed the CEO had gone ahead and commissioned a Space Station anyway.

Yugi breathed out through his teeth. "I feel like you only hired me to ask my opinion, give no fucks about what I tell you, and simply do it anyway."

"That's a distinct possibility."

He finally looked up at Seto, and saw the CEO grinning down at him with a sparkle of dark amusement in his steel blue eyes.

Yugi smiled back despite himself. Nameless feelings squirming in his gut. "You're a pain in the ass."

Seto barked in laughter and crossed his arms over his chest, muttering, "I could be."

Yugi blinked. _Could or can?_ His cheeks heated, awash with confusion on whether he heard his boss correctly. He decided he must have heard wrong and replied, "Can be? No you definitely are."

Seto shrugged and was smiling ever so slightly when he continued, "So about my elevator..."

A stapler hurled through the air at the CEO, and he deflected it with the oversized sleeve of his white trench coat.

"Go buy out Amazon, and then we can talk." It was intended to be a jest, but Seto's expression grew serious at the suggestion.

"Is that a promise?"

"Out!"

"Don't tempt me."

Seto stepped back and swung the door closed just as a box of tissues followed after.

* * *

Yami shifted restlessly in the ventilation as he watched Seto Kaiba make a hasty retreat from Yugi's office.

Something as dark and twisted as his form curled inside him. Gnawing and vexing.

He didn't want to play in Kaiba's office anymore. He didn't want to sit here and watch Yugi grin down at his paperwork. He didn't want to feel his host's emotions rolling over him like waves through their mind link.

Yami wanted to go home. He wanted to play the game on the paper with the X's and O's. He wanted to respond to more of Yugi's questions, and not sit here seething in a mass of sick feelings that he could not understand.

Suddenly alone time in his Soul Room—surrounded by dark corners, foreboding architecture, and suffocating silence—didn't sound so bad.

The moment Yugi was distracted, he bled down the wall, and slipped back into his host's shadow. Then he fell away, deep deep deep, into the puzzle resting above Yugi's heart.

The last thing he did was shut out their mind link. Mentally putting his world on mute. So he wouldn't hear Yugi's voice echoing into his chambers, and so he wouldn't have to suffer the perplexing emotions rolling off his host like fog from fog machine.

He spent the rest of the day submerged in darkness and let his mind float away on a sea of midnight silence.

* * *

When Yugi got home from work, he noted that the Tic Tac Toe game had not been touched. There may have been a swell of disappointment that fell over him like a wet blanket. But there was a red dry erase marker on the floor that hadn't been there before. He picked it up and placed it back on the table.

The white board still had the question and answer from the night before. And he wiped his sleeve over it, and started anew.

‘ _How old are you?’_

‘ _Can I see you?’_

‘ _Are you the one eating the food in my fridge?’_

As he stared at the questions it occurred to him that so far their conversation relationship had been very one sided. Surely this ghost would be curious about him, and was simply being polite? He squeezed a fourth question below the other three.

‘ _Do you have any questions for me?’_

That was an invitation. He wondered if the apartment's ghost would be chatty enough to put forth its own questions. Satisfied, he set the board back on the coffee table and wandered into the kitchen to fix dinner.

When he returned forty minutes later, with a plate of stir-fried noodles and vegetables, he noticed a red O. It was drawn in the space to the right of his X.

Excitement flared, and he very nearly fumbled his plate.

His eyes flashed to the white board with the questions, daring to hope. But those were left unanswered.

"I see where your priorities lie," Yugi laughed. He dropped the plate of noodles onto the coffee table, spilling some over the edge from his eagerness. He was grinning widely when he drew another X on the paper. "Prepare to lose, Yami!"

The puzzle hanging off his neck pulsed.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Yami was being rather petulant in this chapter. ^^; 
> 
> Hope you all enjoy it none the less.


	5. The Killing of a Sacred Yugi

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The name of the PR guy was suggested by someone from the YGO discord. I just need a random name.

' _How old are you?'_

Yami dragged the red dry erase marker down the cheek of his shadow face. He'd never had Yugi's nervous habit of chewing on pens; but if this form had a mouth he was ninety-nine percent sure he would have bitten the marker until it splintered between his teeth.

This was like playing a game with his light, and currently his light was _winning._

' _I am 3,000.'_

 _Give or take a century or two,_ Yami thought to himself. _No, I'm supposed to be an apartment ghost..._ he scrubbed his arm over the board liked he'd seen Yugi do, but his shadow sleeve didn't brush away the ink. Golden eyes narrowed.

He cast about for something more tangible than himself. His hand fell on one of the decorative couch pillows. The pillow might work... last time he'd erased the board Yami had wiped the whole thing across the living room carpet. But that would erase all the ink.

He used the corner of the pillow to scrub his answer from the board.

' _I am 200.'_

Two hundred wasn't too old, right? There were plenty of buildings that old. He'd seen them in documentaries. But that didn't sound right either. He wasn't sure how old this apartment was, but Yugi had computers and google. This was a very difficult lie to upkeep.

Seeing the fake number also made a sickness churn in his gut like so many worms.

_No._

He swiped the pillow over the answer again.

' _I cannot remember.'_

His insides still churned with guilt, but less so. This felt like a cop-out, but it was kinda true. Yami only knew a very rough approximate of his actual age, and he couldn't remember how old he'd been when he died and his soul had become trapped in the puzzle. There was enough truth in the answer that it wasn't exactly a lie.

And for reasons he could not explain to himself he really didn't want to lie to Yugi.

' _Can I see you?'_

The tip of the pen dragged in circles over his knee. If he had been corporeal the ink would have been leaving marks all over his skin and clothes.

Yami thought back to Yugi's horrified expression the last time he'd seen the shadow. The temptation to write a very firm "no," made his writing hand twitch.

But Yugi was asking to see him this time. He made another circle with the marker. Should he oblige his host?

_But why?_

He must have written twelve different answers, and erased all of them.

In the end Yami set the dry erase board aside and drifted into the kitchen to sweep the floor. He jammed the broom bristles against the linoleum aggressively, the task taking three times as long as it should have because he kept sending the dirt flying across the room. When he finally managed to finish that task he washed some dishes, nearly dropping a mug in the process, and having to manifest a third hand to catch it. Once cleaned, he stacked all the dishes in a precarious tower like some deranged poltergeist. Petty, perhaps. But maybe it would startle Yugi enough that he wouldn't want to see him.

It took all his willpower _not_ to unstack the dishes and place them in the strainer like a civilized being. He briefly considered if stacking the kitchen chairs like the ghosts in the movies would be pushing it too far. He decided, yes, and left them be.

Already in a huff, Yami wandered out of the kitchen to fidget with the shelves. He alphabetized the movies and video games, continuing to pointedly ignore the white board on the coffee table. There was always something that needed dusted, and he vigorously ran a cloth over every surface in the room as if the action might wipe his mind clean of turmoil as well. But despite his best efforts, his thoughts agonized over Yugi's questions.

And he felt no closer to an answer.

* * *

Pain. Then floor.

Yugi forced his crusted eyes open registering he'd fallen out of bed. The blankets were tangled in his legs and twisted around his body like he was some piss-ass aerial silks dancer.

"Ugh." He rolled onto his back and stared up at the ceiling, trying to recall what he'd been dreaming about before becoming intimate with the ground.

He vaguely recalled his grandpa's game shop, the familiar surrounding made fuzzy by the film of dreams. He remembered stepping outside where he floated up into the night. Surrounded by stars, and floating in a sea of night, until something black curled around him shutting out the lights. It was almost like it held the sides of his face, leaning close to whisper wordless exasperation to him before all of it whooshed into his chest, followed by an intense warmth in his heart... and then he fell... and then the floor.

To add insult to injury, his morning alarm began blaring. A pulsing, angry noise making his head pound and he struggled to free himself from the blanket restraints.

Yugi smacked the alarm, a haphazard gesture that caused it to bounce off the side table, and come down on his skull.

"Ouch!"

The alarm continued to blare, and he yanked it from the wall to silence it.

"This morning sucks."

It took longer than he wanted to disentangle himself from the sheets. The floor was cold when he stumbled into the bathroom, and he was more than a little disappointed that he hadn't suffered a memory lapse and his sub-conscious hadn't gotten him ready for work. That sometimes happened.

He didn't like to admit that he loved when that happened. It felt like he got to sleep in. Once upon a time it used to scare him, but he'd come to terms with the lapses over the years.

Purple eyes blinked groggily at him from the mirror. His multi-colored hair was mussed from sleep, a frizzy mess that stuck out in odd angles. And not the perfectly coiffed angles he normally spiked it in. This was more like if he stuffed his head in a dryer, and let it tumble, then let a cow lick half of it.

Yugi dragged a brush through his hair, wincing when it caught a tangle or knot, and resigned himself to his morning beauty ritual.

A hour and a half later, he wandered into the living room and collapsed on the couch. His hair was tamed, styled and spiked. His blonde bangs framed the sides of his face, the subtle hot-hair smell from using the curling iron on them tickling his nose. His make-up was on point. The usual eyeliner framing his eyes, but today he'd applied a bit of eyeshadow, some grey on his eyelids, and a bit of silver beneath his eyes. He even applied some dark grey lipstick.

Normally he wouldn't go into work looking so aggressively goth, but Yugi didn't think Seto would complain at him, and he wanted to hide the bags under his eyes from the terrible night of sleep.

Today he was dressed in a silver vest over a black-long sleeved button down. And that was tucked into a pair of black slacks. Rather than wear a tie, he wore his usual leather choker, with matching bracers on his wrists. The Millenium puzzle hung from a black cord, a comforting weight settled over his heart, right where it belonged. It was always a part of his wardrobe no matter what he wore. He very rarely ever removed it.

Yugi spared a tired look at the Tic Tac Toe game and was elated to see the ghost had made a move. He responded in kind, scribbling down another X. Then he checked the white board and his heart jumped into his chest to see that there was familiar red scrawl beneath all his purple questions.

He scooped the board up and settled into the cushions to read the answers.

' _How old are you?'_

' _I cannot remember.'_

That made him feel sorry for Yami. Had it been here so long? Had it come from someplace else and gotten stuck here? Did becoming a ghost mean your memories faded away? Did time lose all it's meaning? Yugi didn't really want to ask these sorts of things over a white board. At least not this early in their conversational relationship. These sorts of things seemed too dark.

' _Can I see you?'_

' _I will scare you.'_

He frowned. That wasn't really a confirmation one way or the other. And it was rather presumptuous.

"I won't be scared if I'm expecting you," Yugi called out to his apartment. "If you're referring to the time in my games closet, I wasn't expecting to see you, I was half-asleep and it did scare me. But I don't think you'll scare me now. Just so long as you don't jump out and try to," he added with a nervous laugh. Inviting a ghost to reveal itself didn't usually end well in horror movies.

He half expected the specter to rush at him from one of the corners of his room. His eyes darted around nervously searching the shadows. But nothing dark or spooky revealed itself.

"Try it sometime. I'd love to meet you, face to face."

Invitation sent. Portal to hell opened. Yugi knew he was going to be jumping at shadows for the next week. Whether or not Yami actually took him up on the invitation, he was going to be scrutinizing and double checking every shadow, especially his own. He really hoped Yami didn't take that the wrong way.

' _Are you the one eating the food in my fridge?'_

' _No.'_

 _So, where's it all going then?_ Yugi gnawed on the end of his purple marker. It was entirely possible he ate it during one of those memory lapses. Or maybe he'd tossed it out. Also possible. He spared a moment to lament all the wasted food that could have gotten thrown out during his mental lapses.

' _Do you have any questions for me?'_

' _How long have you been alive?'_

Yugi debated answering the question out loud. But decided he should write his answer on the board. He would answer Yami's questions equally.

He erased his own questions, and wrote out three more. Then wrote his answer below Yami's question.

' _I'm twenty-five years.'_

Excitement coiled in his stomach as he got up and made his way into the kitchen to fix breakfast. He found himself brimming with anticipation to come home from work that night.

Upon entering the kitchen Yugi yelped in fright, stumbled, stubbed his toe on a chair, and screamed.

He felt embarrassed about the outburst. But his dishes were stacked weird as shit. And fuck, his toe hurt.

* * *

Yugi sat in his office at work. He was sipping coffee and approving a report. He was also trying to find out where a sizable portion of their budget had disappeared to this week. And he had an inkling suspicion that whoever was responsible had a name that started with S and rhymed with... _shmeto_.

"Yugi!"

_Speak of the devil..._

Yugi lifted his eyes to watch Seto Kaiba stalk into his office. What was it going to be this time? Another theme park? A second space station? The elevator again? Did Seto really buy out Amazon like he'd jokingly suggested? Yugi wouldn't have been the least bit surprised if he did. It would be just like Seto to do that. There was nothing he loved more than money and spite.

"I fired my..." Seto trailed off as his gaze fixed on Yugi. Steel blue eyes bore into the little expense manager with an intensity so acute Yugi thought a blood vessel might rupture in Seto's eye.

"You fired your...?" Yugi prompted, waving his hand in a gesture for his boss to continue.

"Why are you all dressed up?" Seto almost sounded irritated.

Yugi shrugged. "I wanted to look good today? I had a bad night, and I wanted to feel nice. It's called self care." He self consciously touched some of his hair spikes, as if to reassure they were still all in place. He had driven to work that morning, something he normally didn't do because traffic at the heart of the city was unbearable. But he'd wanted to keep his appearance clean, and didn't want to fend of any attention it might have drawn to him on the metro.

"Hmm." Whatever hackles Yugi's appearance had ruffled seemed to relax. Seto leaned against the door frame, arms crossed over his chest. "I fired my PR manager."

"That's not surprising." Yugi turned his attention back to the report. "You've been grumbling about his work for awhile now. You're gonna need a new one real soon though. The company has a Duel Monsters tournament coming up, and both of us are competing."

"I could make you my new PR guy."

If Yugi had been drinking his coffee he would have done a spit take. He jerked his head up to scowl at Seto. "Heck no."

"Why not?" Seto waved his hand at Yugi's office, "You hate this job. I never take you seriously, and we both know you are just here so I can undermine all your hard work." The grin he wore while admitting this was near predatory.

"Never thought you'd actually admit that. But I get paid really well to be the guy you dick over every week." The smile Yugi returned was beaming.

Seto made a choking sound. "Don't say it like that."

"Like what?"

"You make it sound like you're my high class whore."

Yugi laughed and signed one of the reports before setting it aside. "I couldn't possibly be one of your whores, I'm not dressed like a Blue Eyes White Dragon."

A sharp inhale. The look Seto gave him was unreadable, but intense.

He decided it would be best to ease off the teasing. Well, _that_ teasing.

"Don't worry Mr. Kaiba, I know you actually appreciate all my hard work. You're too tsundere to admit it, but your underlings would be lost without me. And Mokuba tells me all the time how helpful I am."

"Of course he would."

Mokuba was Seto Kaiba's younger brother and right hand man. Mokuba oversaw the company when Seto was absent, and took care of the more tedious work that Seto deemed beneath him.

Years ago Mokuba had been a nasty little shit, having tried to poison Yugi, and even taken part in Seto's Death T event. But Mokuba had been the first Kaiba brother to come around and extend the olive branch to Yugi. Over the years they became good friends, and now they were thick as thieves in Kaiba Corp. Much to Seto's chagrin.

"I don't want to be your new PR guy," Yugi said firmly. "I don't love this job, but I know I'd hate being PR Manager even more. You're insufferable as it is, and I know you are hell on your Public Relations department." When he said this he made sure to hold Seto's stare so that the CEO would know he was serious.

Seto released a sigh. An amused smirk pulled at his mouth. "I should fire you for talking to me like this."

Yugi gave his own huff of amusement. "But you won't."

* * *

On his way to the break room that day, two hours before he could go home, Yugi encountered the former PR manager. Mr. Mashima was carrying a box of personal affects towards the elevator, wearing an expression that would strangle kittens. If those kittens happened to be named Seto Kaiba.

The man turned that glare on Yugi, curling his lip in unconcealed malice.

"You taking my job?"

"What? No. Nooo." Yugi waved his hands before him as if to expel the misunderstanding.

"Yeah, sure," Mr. Mashima scoffed. "Kaiba said he's promoting you to the position as soon as I'm out the door."

"Well he certainly tried," Yugi admitted. "But I don't want your job." He tried hedging around the former PR manager, trying to skirt the aura of contempt that rolled off the man like a thick black miasma.

Mr. Mashima only fixed him with an even darker look. "You're Seto Kaiba's little pet. His play thing. God forbid you ever have to work a real job in this company. He'll just hand you anything on a silver platter because you're his prized, 'King of Games.'"

Yugi wanted to respond. He wanted to snarl at the man for saying such rude and disrespectful things. But the man had just gotten fired, and this anger was misplaced. Also, Yugi wasn't sure how much of those accusations he could deny, and it smarted something fierce. Like a slap to his face.

It was just like Seto to do something like that. To keep Yugi around not because he needed Yugi, but because he valued Yugi's influence and title. They were gaming rivals, and Seto was adhering to that old adage to keep your friends close, but your enemies closer. These days they were both. They were "frenemies." Also they'd just been joking about how useless Yugi was earlier that day. Even if it had been a joke, and he knew it probably wasn't true, he couldn't seem to muster the words to deny it now.

Mr. Mashima scoffed again, shaking his head, "Little parasite." He muttered other nasty things under his breath as he stalked off towards the elevator with the last of his dignity.

Pained amethyst eyes watched him go. Moisture caught in the corners, stinging as Yugi forced himself not to cry. He hated that he cried so easily. Was he happy? Tears. Was he mad? Tears. Was he sad? Fucking sobbing all the way.

He kicked the dark blue carpet and winced because it was the foot with the toe he stubbed this morning.

However, it gave him the perfect excuse for the tears when entered the break room to fix himself a snack. Nobody batted an eye at his explanation.

Mokuba Kaiba enter the breakroom while Yugi picked at a Cup-of-Noodles he’d gotten from the company vending machine. He spared a nod to the younger Kaiba brother, who returned the gesture with a smile before his face suddenly fell.   
  
“Are you ok, Yugi?” Mokuba weaved between the tables to stop on the other side of Yugi’s. His dark eyes were searching, full of concern.

”I’m fine,” Yugi assured, trying to smile, but probably failing miserably. It felt super fake. “Why do you ask?” 

“Your eyeliner is running.”

Yugi’s hand shot up to his cheeks, and sure enough when he withdrew his fingers they were tinged with black.

”Crap.” That’s what he got for crying. And for not wearing his waterproof cosmetics.

A monogrammed handkerchief appeared before his nose, and Yugi looked up to find Mokuba had withdrawn it from his suit pocket and was holding it out to him. He gave a tentative but greatful smile and accepted the handkerchief. Mokuba returned the smile with his own, one that was sweet and boyish and happy to help.

Yugi couldn’t deny that the younger Kaiba brother had certainly changed over the years. No longer the spiteful and nasty brat who sought vengence for his older Brother’s pride, now Mokuba was a thoughtful and kind twenty year old. He’d come into his own personality rather than trying so hard to be a shadow of Seto. Yugi would even say he’d come a lot farther than his older brother. Seto may have been nicer these days, but in a lot of ways he was still very much the same old Seto Kaiba.

Mokuba had done some growing too. Growth spurts had been kind to him and he was now taller than Yugi. Much to Yugi’s annoyance. It seemed everyone grew up to be taller than him. Mokuba had a build you’d describe as lanky and spry. He kept his hair shorter and styled a little nicer these days and his facial features were also sharper. Despite all the changes though, he still had the same mischievous eyes and boyish smile. Yugi wondered if he would ever grow out of that.

He finished mopping up the messed up eyeliner, giving Mokuba an apologetic look for the black stains on his handkerchief.

”You can keep it. Seto orders those by the buttload. I have an entire dresser draw full of them.”

That was enough to make Yugi chuckle. And some of the bitterness finally eased away from him.

”Thank you.”

“Of course,” Mokuba assured. “This place makes me cry sometimes too.”

He couldn’t express how much he appreciated the out. That simple sentence letting him know that no explanation was required. Sometimes, Mokuba just got him.

”Want to see my new capsule monsters?” Without asking for permission, Mokuba took the seat opposite of Yugi and began rummaging in his suit pockets.

”You bring them to work?”

The impish grin Mokuba sported was all the answer he needed. Two handfuls of capsule mons were dumped onto the table before them. All of them level 3, 4, or 5. 

“I have enough for us both to play if you want?” 

Honestly, he didn’t even have to ask. 

* * *

By the time he got out of work, Yugi was over his painful encounter. The hurt and anger from before had simmered away and were replaced by feelings of excitement and anticipation.

There was a ghost at home. One that liked games, and wanted to be friends. They were playing Tic Tac Toe, and if he was lucky Yami had answered his new questions while he was out.

It was safe to say that Yami had become the highlight of his days. Mornings and afternoons, he was couldn't wait to interact more with the spirit. And maybe, just maybe, this was the day Yami would reveal himself so Yugi could see him properly.

The prospect was both thrilling and chilling.

He was humming the Pokémon theme to himself when he approached his car. It was a little electric city car, nothing exciting or fancy. The kind Yugi could fit into comfortably, but that Seto would have to be yoga master to fold into. Jonouchi and Honda often complained about the car too. Of all his friends, only Anzu and Ryou seemed to appreciate his car.

The keys jingled as he extracted them from his pocket. He clicked the unlock button as he approached the rear of the car. The garage was a little emptier than usual, because Yugi had stayed an hour later than most of the other employees.

This meant he wouldn't have to fight that pesky traffic to exit the parking garage, but it also meant that the darkened interior was kinda vacant and spooky. The shadows were thick where the security lights didn't reach and the station where the guard was, was one floor down.

Yugi tried to imagine golden eyes peering at him from the darkness. The way they glowed in his memory. Perhaps they would greet him when he came home.

He wasn't expecting bright white eyes to pierce the darkness. Their light washed over him, they pinned him in place like an animal caught on a dark road.

A motor roared, the keen of tires screaming against pavement as someone floored their gas pedal.

His heart clenched in pure terror. Breath caught in his throat.

Those white lights, like the eyes of a demon surged from the corner of the garage straight for him.

He didn't even have time to move.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Dun dun dunnnnn! Cliffhanger. ;3


	6. Maximum Game-Overdrive

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I had more fun that I thought writing a shadow game.

Those bright white lights came at him. So fast, so close, Yugi could hardly brace himself mentally for the impact.

There wasn't time to move, and even if there had been, sheer panic made Yugi's muscles seize.

The last thing he saw was that blinding light, before a sudden wash of darkness fell over him.

He heard the thunk of metal. Of a car making impact with something hard, and then another crunch of metal right after, the sound of a car slamming into another car.

But he couldn't see any of this. He could only see blackness. And it all sounded so far away, like he was experiencing it through a dream. That thick viscous blackness pulled him under, down, down, down, his mind drowning in it.

And then there was nothingness.

* * *

Yami didn't have time to possess Yugi and still keep his host from getting hit by the car.

In the time it would take to rip consciousness and control from Yugi he would be nothing but a smear on the pavement. So Yami did the only thing he could.

He poured out of the puzzle and Yugi's own shadow like a wave of black ink, and encased his host in a writhing cloak of darkness. Using all the magic at his disposal, Yami willed his shadow form to become corporeal, solid. Willed himself to be as hard as steel.

He felt it slam into him. Registered the crushing impact that threatened to penetrate his form, and he pushed back with a hundred shadow tentacles, willing this form to sweep the car off to the side. Forcing the vehicle away from him, away from his precious host, and into the back end of Yugi's own car. Unfortunately.

There was going to be some damage.

Yugi was trembling. His mind was screaming. Fear rolled through their mind link in waves, and it was everything Yami had to shut it out. He pushed Yugi down. Forced the consciousness of his host into dormancy even as he forced himself into his host's body. Unnatural shadows melting back into Yugi. Features sharpened, wilder hair disheveled, eyes turning the color of blood.

And then Yugi himself melted into the shadows.

Mr. Mashima threw his car into reverse, hearing the awful scrunch of metal as the nose of his sedan disconnected from the back end of Yugi's city car. It was a miracle his own car was still running.

He tossed a glance at the spot Yugi had been, but couldn't see the young man anymore. He must have hit Yugi. Must have. The collision had been sudden and jarring. But he'd felt the car impact something before smashing into Yugi's car.

It had to be that worthless welp. "Fuck you, Kaiba's pet."

The tires squealed as he threw the car into drive and hit the gas. The whole vehicle lurching forward like a wounded animal before breaking for the exit.

Mr. Mashima risked a glance into his rear view mirror, hoping to catch a glimpse of a body on the concrete behind.

Instead he caught a glimpse of something black in the backseat of his car.

He eased off the gas, but could not tear his eyes from the mirror. As if alive, the shadows crawled off a figure in his back seat, revealing blazing blood colored eyes, that almost glowed. Yugi sat in the back seat of his car, he made eye contact with Mr. Mashima through the mirror and a cruel sneer pulled his mouth.

"You like to play games PR Guy?" He asked, dark desperate amusement lacing his tone. But it wasn't Yugi's voice. It wasn't right. This wasn't the voice of the soft spoken expense manager. This was confident, unhinged, and a low timbre. Nothing like Yugi's higher-pitched grating sound.

Mr. Mashima made a strangled choking shriek and hit the breaks. Putting his car into a full stop, he stumbled from the vehicle while it was still running.

Crazy-eyed Yugi unblinkingly watched him from the back seat. That toothy grin ever fixed on his features.

"How did you get in my car?!" Mashima stumbled back until he made contact with another car. He cast a quick glance at the spot Yugi should have been, the ground behind his city car. But the pavement was vacant. He looked back at his own damaged sedan and Yugi was languidly stepping out of the back with all the grace of a feline.

"You tried to kill me," he practically purred. But there was iciness behind those words. Absolute cruelty. He stalked towards Mr. Mashima never breaking eye contact. "You have trespassed in my soul, so now you will play a game with me."

Mashima tried to hedge around the car he'd backed himself into.

Yugi stopped a few feet away, and those burning eyes became even more manic. "And I have waited so so long for this," he whispered near desperately. In a louder, huskier voice he stated simply, "Shadow Game."

Shadows suddenly oozed down the walls of the car port, blanketing the entire level in an inky black shell. Exits winked out of existence, and distance appeared to fold in on itself and stretch on forever. The only constant were the sparse population of cars which continued to dot the hellish black landscape.

"The rules are simple," Yugi continued, pulling a stained monogrammed handkerchief from his pocket. "We will be blindfolded, with only our hearing to guide us out of the way of oncoming traffic."

On cue, one of the vacant vehicles revved to life. Driverless, it's headlights came on.

"I hope you liked the film Christine. Our goal is to not get hit. It'll be like a real life game of frogger. When you can't hop anymore, then the game is over. And should you lose..." hollow laughter spilled from Yugi's chest, "you'll suffer a penalty game. Dealer's choice of course."

"Whose the dealer?"

"Me."

"And what if I refuse to play the game?" Mr. Mashima demanded suspiciously. He tried to inch around the car behind him, but it suddenly started up and rolled away from him on its own.

Yugi tossed a clean, unused handkerchief at Mashima, seemingly pulling it from thin air.

"Better follow the rules or you forfeit, and we skip right to the punishment." Yugi waited patiently, manic eyes watching expectantly.

"And what do I get if I win?"

"I let you walk away from this alive, and forget you ever transgressed upon my host. Sounds fair... right?"

"Your host?"

"The blindfold, Mr. PR Guy. Now."

The look Yugi shot him promised pain, and suffering, and Mr. Mashima felt compelled to start this game. He fastened the handkerchief around his head, adjusting it so it covered his vision. He noticed Yugi follow suite as he did this. Fastening his own stained handkerchief over those demonic red eyes.

"What now?" Their vision was thoroughly obscured and the blindfolds were secure.

"We take turns, we listen, and we jump out of the way." The-not-quite-right-Yugi explained, "as a courtesy, I will go first."

A car engine revved. Tires squealed against pavement and the sound came right for them. A great * _zyoooom_!* as something large rushed passed. But there was no sound of the car colliding with anything.

"How do I know you aren't cheating?" Mr. Mashima called.

"You need not call my honor into question. I would worry more about yourself," Yugi answered, sounding a little breathless. "It's your turn after all."

On cue, another engine revved to life. And the keen of tires alerted Mashima that there was a vehicle headed straight for him. He threw his whole body to the side, leaping a whole three feet to the left, and feeling the rush of air as something very large and solid just barely missed hitting him. He made solid impact with the ground. Rough cement tearing holes in the elbows of his nice clothes.

"Shit," he cursed under his breath.

"Round one is over," Yugi replied silkily. "Prepare yourself for round two."

Another car roared to life.

* * *

Yami listened, waited, and pushed off the ground. He dove to the right, rolling out of the way as a vehicle zoomed by, disturbing the air and his wild hair in the process. This one felt much closer than the last car. But he came out unscathed. Yami sucked in a breath of relief.

"Your move," he announced. Not that Mr. Mashima deserved such courtesy. But Yami was nothing if not... fair. These games were designed to draw out one's true character, and Mashima's heart was so dark that he was already playing with a handicap.

Another car keened, a rush of air farther away from Yami, and he heard the yelp of the former PR guy followed by the smell of burning rubber. There was a gasping, and choking but no moans of pain. Mashima had survived.

"You're doing so well," Yami purred. Exhilaration thrilling through his veins for the first time in years. The adrenaline high coursing Yugi's veins was making Yami drunk, curling his mind with the sickness of power. He forced himself to tighten his focus and listen. It was his turn after all.

The next car must have been an expensive electric one, because there was almost no sound from the engine.

He listened. Strained his ear to detect the direction of an oncoming vehicle and still block out the choking gasps from his adversary.

Yami barely heard the scrape of tires. And nearly reacted a split second too late.

Scuffed dress shoes pushed off against the pavement. Using all his strength he threw himself to the left. Using even his hands to push off the ground, nails digging into the concrete and cracking from the rough texture.

The gust of disturbed air was too close. Something clipped Yami in the hip at an angle. And the force sent him rolling. Pain exploded in his side, and the concrete tore skin and clothes where he slid along the ground. A shower of shattered headlamp cover scattered along the concrete around him.

"Dammit," he coughed, using an elbow to brace against the ground. He tried to catch his breath and get up to prepare for the next car.

"You got hit didn't you!?" Mr. Mashima cackled gleefully if not breathlessly.

"I can still hop," Yami replied, confidence belying the searing pain in his hip. "I'd worry more about yourself, you toad."

Fortunate for Mashima the next vehicle was a truck. Loud and noisy, and taking longer to accelerate. The former PR Manager dodged it easily enough.

"Looks like I'm winning," crowed the man. He was definitely winded from all the hopping, and rolling, and diving.

"Don't let that overconfidence be your downfall."

Yami heard the next car. It was gas, so the combustion engine was noisy enough to herald its approach. His hip protested harshly. He wouldn't be able to jump as quickly or effectively.

_If I jump too early the car will change trajectory and get me when I hit the ground. But if I jump too late..._

He listened, listened to the keen of tires on pavement, the hum of the engine.

With his good leg, Yami leapt. Diving to the side, and feeling the whoosh of the car zoom past.

 _Safe._ He flopped onto his back and sucked in precious air. It almost hurt to breath.

The next car was electric, and even more expensive than the previous electric car. There almost wasn't a sound aside from a peal of tire noises.

"I don't hear it! I don't—Haaaaah!"

The magic of the game suddenly shimmered, like electricity in the air. When the car zoomed passed a murmur arose in the darkness, whispering wordlessly into Yami's ears.

"Beat that you little prick!" Mr. Mashima swaggered. "This game is easy!"

No other car roared to life. No other engine started to hum. All the vehicles had gone silent.

Slowly, carefully, Yami pulled himself from the concrete. It took longer than he would have liked and far less graceful because of his wounded leg, but with some difficulty he managed to stand.

"What?" Is this game over now?"

Yami reached up and pulled the stained handkerchief from his open eyes. It took a moment for his vision to adjust, but it revealed what the shadows had already whispered to him. He saw Mashima struggling to quickly refasten his own blindfold.

"You couldn't follow the rules, mister Public Relations," Yami stated resolutely. Then a cruel smile etched itself across his face. Devilish and white against the shadows cast over his face. His eyes burned as suffocating magic suddenly welled from the puzzle around his neck.

The former PR manager dropped the charade, balling the handkerchief in his fist.

All around them the building felt like it was trembling, and the inky darkness shifted as if alive.

A bright golden eye opened in Yami's forehead, it pinned Mr. Mashima with its empty stare, even whilst Yami's demonic crimson eyes burned with damnation.

"Your penalty game should be death for what you attempted against my light. But my Yugi is so kind... so merciful, and I told him I was nice." Yami raised a hand and jabbed a finger at the trembling man. "You will taste nothing but gasoline, and you will breath nothing but exhaust," he told the PR man this in a low menacing tone. "...And you will bleed nothing but oil..." The next words were stated in nothing more than a harsh mutter, "Penalty Game."

He didn't wait to see the effect of his curse. The man was yowling as Yami turned away, limping towards the edge of the parking garage while the shadows of the building receded back to their normal appearance and positions.

The wall next to the elevator reappeared when he was a few meters away from it. The pain in his hip and leg was near blinding now that the adrenaline was fading away. Yami clenched his teeth against it. He dragged himself to the wall, using the surface to keep him stable; he reached up and pulled the fire alarm. As soon as the alarm began blaring, and the lights flashing, he let the body crumple to the floor. Less than six feet away from the doors of the elevator.

_Someone will find you, Yugi. I'm so sorry..._

Yami released his hold over his host's consciousness. Setting Yugi free from the darkness, while he retreated to the depths of his soul room to wait... and watch.

* * *

There were sirens when Yugi regained consciousness. He felt so disoriented.

Lights flashing, people yelling. A man was screaming.

Yugi tried to move and felt pain erupt all down his right side. A moan escaped him.

"Shhhh, It's ok," a masculine voice assured him.

Yugi felt a hand on his shoulder, comforting in its touch, and holding him in place so he wouldn't try to move again.

"An ambulance is pulling in now."

Yugi forced his eyes to crack open, staring up at the person above him. "Kaiba-kun?"

Seto's blue eyes fixed on Yugi and a strange expression flitted across his usually hard features. "You haven't called me that in a long time. Do you have a concussion?" His mouth set in a firm line as he touched the top of Yugi's head.

It didn't hurt. And Yugi didn't wince. Surprisingly the pain wasn't in his head so much as his lower half.

"Did I get hit by a car?"

Seto grimaced and looked away, staring at something across the parking garage. "Yes. I think my fucking former PR guy tried to mow you down."

There was still screaming from someone. And there was also yelling from what sounded like police officers.

Yugi blinked. But it must have been a long blink because when he opened his eyes again there were paramedics. People were mumbling something about possible broken bones, and internal bleeding.

He couldn't see Seto anymore. But he could hear the CEO nearby shouting demands at people.

Yugi shut his eyes again and screamed against the pain when he felt people move him.

0000

Mokuba took him home from the hospital. Under orders from Seto no doubt.

"So a pelvic fracture?" The younger Kaiba brother asked from the driver's seat. They were in Mokuba's red Fiat Spider, since Yugi's car was taken to the shop. Seto often complained that the car wasn't suitable for men of their status, but Mokuba liked telling people he drove a "Spider."

"A minor one, as far as pelvic fractures go. There was also some internal bleeding, but they got that under control. I'll be covered in bruises for ages though," Yugi answered conversationally from the back seat.

"Seto wants you to make use of the personal assistant he assigned to you. The one you always ignore."

"What was his name again?" Yugi's mind felt a bit hazy from the pain medication. But at least he wasn't writhing in agony.

"Ryuji Otogi. He shows potential in game's development and wanted a foot into the company. He's been kinda put out that you've been blowing him off."

"Oh..." Guilt washed over Yugi. He'd forgone using a personal assistant simply because he didn't want to feel as pompous and bossy as Seto Kaiba. He firmly believed if he could do it himself, why trouble someone else to do it for you. It never occurred to him that his personal assistant was trying to prove himself, and move up in the company. And that wasn't going to happen if Yugi hardly used him. "I'll make sure to give him a call."

"Good," Mokuba beamed at him through the rear view mirror. "So uh... Mr. Mashima got committed to a mental hospital."

"Yeah?" He wasn't really interested in what had happened to his attempted murderer, just so long as the man couldn't come after him again. But it was perplexing that the former PR manager would be committed rather than go to prison. But then... that used to happen to a lot of people around Yugi when he was a teen. People being committed to a mental hospital that is.

"It seems he completely lost it after hitting you with that car. Seto said he was flailing around the parking garage screaming like a maniac when the police arrested him."

 _That would explain the screaming I heard._ Yugi vaguely remembered hearing someone screaming when Kaiba had found him. He let his head fall against the seat of the car, trying to will the dizziness away. The city scenery flying by in the window was not helping.

Mokuba's tone changed becoming more subdued, "Seto will make sure the man never comes within a mile of you. Sorry." He must have seen Yugi's eyes shut in the back seat and the strain on his features. "We won't talk about him. Look! We're at your place."

He couldn't bring himself to open his eyes, but he felt the red Spider pull into into the driveway. Yugi was awash with relief to finally be home again after spending several nights in the hospital. He wanted a proper shower, and real food, and his own bed.

Seto had given him the next eight weeks off of work. Pending more time if Yugi needed it.

Mokuba retrieved the crutches from the trunk, and helped Yugi out fo the car. He reluctantly opened his eyes, so as to help Mokuba navigate them to the correct apartment. They took the elevator up to his apartment, since it would have been a bitch to take the stairs like Yugi usually did. He assisted Yugi all the way to the couch and then dithered in the living room asking if he needed anything else.

Yugi cast a longing look at the hallway that led to the bathroom. He couldn't possibly ask Mokuba to help him take a shower.

"Your personal assistant is instructed to help you in any way you need. _Even_ a shower," Mokuba stated, seemingly reading his friend's thoughts. "If you feel ok with that. And if he does anything weird, we'll fire him on the spot, ok?"

Yugi snapped his attention back to the assistant CEO. "Thanks?" He honestly didn't feel comfortable having a near complete stranger help him shower. But then an in-home nurse would be just as strange to him. "I think I'll call my mom and ask her for help."

Mokuba shrugged. He fidgeted with his suit cuffs for several minutes, seemingly unaware what to do in this situation. "You gonna be okay?"

Yugi adjusted himself on the couch, getting into a more comfortable position. "I think I'll be ok. Can I have a drink, and my iPad before you go? I'll call Ryuji if I need anything else."

Mokuba collected what Yugi asked for. Called in an order of food for delivery, asking Ryuji Otogi to pick it up and bring it by. Then he patted Yugi on the head, ruffling his formerly spiked but now messy, deflated and droopy hair. He swatted at Mokuba, and told him to git.

When he was gone stillness fell over the apartment.

Yugi cast a gaze around the room drinking in the comforting familiarity. Everything was how he left it. Everything was so normal. As if he'd never even been gone. His eyes landed on the neglected white board on the coffee table. And that's when his heart plummeted into the pits of his stomach, and it felt so awful he nearly threw up.

Nothing new had been written on it. And the game of Tic Tac Toe remained near finished but unplayed. Still the ghost's turn.

_Ghost._

In all the time he'd been absent he expected Yami to have replied back, or played their game.

He tentatively cleared his throat and spoke into the silence. "Yami, I'm sorry I haven't been home. I got hit by a car."

Nothing.

"I'm off work for the next eight weeks. Maybe we could play more games?"

Still nothing. Not even a pillow falling off the couch.

He shifted on the cushions feeling very awkward. But then the ghost didn't normally respond to him except at night. It had been several nights now... and the board was still blank.

"I'd still like to see you," he added more softly. "If that's ok."

* * *

Deep in his soul room Yami clutched at the fabric on his chest. Emotions of guilt, longing and anticipation flooded the mind link. And Yugi's words were echoing in his chambers like a mantra.

" _See_ _you. See you.. see you..."_

"You're not playing fair... I don't like this game anymore." Yami stared vehemently at the stone floor. Crimson eyes attempting to gouge holes in the surface while his knuckles turned pale with strain.

" _I hope you aren't mad at me."_ His host's voice continued to echo into his chamber.

"I got you _hurt_ ," he growled in response, teeth grinding from the set of his jaw. And in his soul room he could feel the pain as if he had his own body even if it never left any physical damage. He was so sorely tempted to shut out their mind link so he could brood in peace. "I'm mad at _me_."

Yugi said something else, but all Yami caught was the wanting, " _please_?"

The spirit slammed his head back against the ornate stone throne. The pain so sharp it made his mind reel and he could feel it in his sinuses.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So that’s it for that chapter. Let me know if I did alright with the shadow game. And any thoughts you have on this chapter will be much appreciated. 
> 
> Prepare for mandatory bonding. I didn’t actually intend to maim Yugi, it just happened naturally while writing so I went with it. Yami was a little rusty with his games.


	7. The Host Where Yami Dwells

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> It’s my Borthday! Have a new chapter.

Bright green eyes stared at Yugi from across the living room.

Very bright green eyes. Yugi's drug addled mind wondered if maybe Ryuji wore contacts to make them so vivid. But he had just enough sense to keep himself from asking. People always asked him if he wore contacts to make his eyes purple, and then didn't believe him when he said it was their natural color.

He was kinda impressed by his personal assistant's style. He wore eyeliner just like he did, but Ryuji had drawn a line of black with cosmetics from his eye down his left cheek. He also wore a checkered head band that kept his curly black hair out of his face. And damn, was his hair black. It looked like it had been spun from liquid ink, it had a sheen so luxurious that Yugi actually felt envious.

When one frequently bleached their bangs, and dyed the ends of their hair, it tended to kill the quality of said hair. But he reminded himself that he preferred having loud flamboyant hair, rather than all black like Ryuji, and this was the price he had to pay.

"You like red?" he asked in an awkward attempt at conversation.

Ryuji blinked at him. He reached up and touched the lapel of his vermillion button down shirt. It matched the color of his headband, and was complimented nicely by his black slacks. "Yeah, I guess."

Yugi gave a rude snort before he could catch himself. "Sorry. The painkillers make me loopy."

"Would you like me to buy some groceries? Pick up a prescription? Tidy up your home?" Ryuji spared a look around the pristine looking apartment. Yugi must have been a neat freak because this place looked phenomenal, despite the clutter of games and toys on some of the shelves. Everything was dusted, and nothing looked out of place.

"I got my prescription already, and I can't cook right now anyway so groceries are moot." Yugi also glanced around the apartment. "And my apartment looks fine." He bit his tongue about why it looked fine. Ryuji probably wouldn't believe him if he said an extremely shy ghost was tidying his home. "Mom and Grandpa will be over in an hour to help me shower anyway," he added instead.

Ryuji's shoulders slumped. "So there's really nothing I can do to assist you?"

Guilt slammed Yugi right in the gut. Mokuba's words echoing back at him. He floundered mentally, trying to think of something for his personal assistant to assist with. "Uhh... you can call Ryou Bakura!"

A sudden icy chill shot into his chest from the puzzle on his neck. He adjusted the artifact so it wasn't so close to his skin.

"He wanted to know when I got out of the hospital, he says he's gonna come over to visit."

"Sure." Ryuji extracted a phone from his pocket and looked expectantly at Yugi.

Yugi parroted a number from his own contact's list, feeling good that he was able to think of something for Ryuji to do. Not that he couldn't have called Ryou himself.

Ryou Bakura had been completely freaked when he heard Yugi was in the hospital. He'd even visited briefly, practically smothering Yugi in concern.

He couldn't really blame Ryou though. Back in middle and high school nearly all of Ryou's friends had mysteriously fallen into comas and been hospitalized. They'd eventually recovered. All of them, all at once. Which was equally mysterious. But ever since, Ryou had become an absolute basket case whenever any of his current friends were hospitalized, no matter the reason.

Yugi recalled how he nearly had a panic attack when Honda had to have his appendix removed.

Speaking of Honda, Yugi asked Ryuji to call Jonouchi and Honda as well and let them know he was home. His two best friends were no doubt chomping at the bit to come visit. He wasn't sure how much company he could handle so soon out of the hospital, so he also asked Ryuji to stagger all the visits like appointments over the next few days. Today was his Mom and Grandpa's turn.

"Mr. Kaiba texted me. He wants to know how you are doing," said Ryuji once he was finished making calls and scheduling visits.

"Tell him he could have texted me himself. And if he wants to visit he'll have to make an appointment like everyone else." Yugi flopped his head back against the arm of the couch and shut his eyes. He wanted the room to stop shifting before his family arrived.

There were some messaging tones, and then Ryuji said, "he says he doesn't need an appointment to see you. That you'll clear your schedule for him whether you like it or not."

Yugi held up his hand, and stuck his middle finger up. "Take a picture of this and send it to him."

There was a synthetic sound of a camera flash, and whoosh of a message being sent.

Not ten seconds later Ryuji's phone chimed with a reply.

"He says to 'eat a dick.'"

Yugi laughed, and it hurt, but he couldn't help it. "I would, but I haven't had any offers lately."

"...should I tell him... that?"

"No!" He quickly amended, waving a hand in the air. "Do not tell him that. Gods, don't tell him that." He fought the heat in his cheeks at the thought of how Seto might respond to that. "Just ignore him."

Ryuji smiled for the first time since showing up at Yugi's apartment with the takeout Mokuba had ordered.

It was about twenty minutes later that Yugi's mom and grandfather showed up. Ryuji let them in, greeted them, introduced himself, then bid Yugi a farewell reminding him that he was only a phone call away, day or night.

"Hey, young man," greeted his grandfather, Sugoroku Mutou. "You're looking better today."

Yugi attempted to sit up on the couch a bit more, to greet his family.

His grandfather owned and operated a game shop called Kame Games, and his mother assisted in running the store when she wasn't working her day job. That day job tended to change over the years to suit whatever they needed. The shop shared a building with their house. It was the house Yugi had grown up in. Most of the living area was on the second floor.

He had no siblings, and his father had left when he was really young. So it had just been him, Mom and Grandpa, for as long as he could remember.

Today his Mom looked very tired. And his Grandpa looked... old. Yugi wondered if it was due to his accident.

"I'm feeling better, Grandpa." He plastered a bright and beaming smile on his features, and pointedly ignored the gentle swaying of the room. "They got me on some nice pain meds." Yes, very nice meds. The kind that made him want to curl up and pass out.

"Are you hungry? Have you eaten?" His Mom was already hovering around him.

"I'm fine, Mom. Ryuji brought me take out. It's in the kitchen if I get hungry."

"Your hair is filthy," she was running her fingers through his droopy mussed up hair, combing it as well and stroking the top of her son's head. "When was the last time you had a shower?"

"Well, that's actually one of the things I wanted to ask you for," Yugi explained.

Over an hour later his Mom and Grandpa were helping him into bed. He was freshly showered. All the grime and styling products washed from his hair. It now hung limp and damp around his head. His skin felt great, clean, warm, and he was ready to pass out when Grandpa tucked the comforter under his chin.

He felt exhausted. Yugi barely registered the kisses placed on his cheek and forehead before he drifted off to sleep.

00

"What's this?"

Golden eyes suddenly appeared beneath Yugi's bed.

"It's a white board," remarked Yugi's mom.

"Yes, but it's got questions all over it. Kind of like an interview?" Sugoroku was pondering curiously in his low gravelly voice.

Yami shifted restlessly in the shadows. The temptation to rush into the living room, snatch up the whiteboard, and clutch it jealously against his chest was near overwhelming. But he willed himself to stay put.

"It's probably something from one of his games, Dad. You know how they play tabletop RPGs with Ryou."

Sugoroku made a noise of agreement.

"I can't believe that man hit my son with a car. All because he was fired."

The conversation in the living room had moved away from the whiteboard and onto the events of the accident. Yami no longer cared. He tuned out the noise and slipped up the narrow space between the wall and the bed.

He looked over his unconscious and exhausted host, gazing softly at the injured male.

Yugi did look much better after having a shower. His chest was rising and falling rhythmically with every breath, and he looked... almost peaceful.

Which was a relief given the pain Yami felt from him all the time via their mind link. Everyday since the incident he felt Yugi's pain, even when it was clouded and masked with painkillers, it was still there. He refused to close off the link because it was a pain he needed to shoulder as well.

This was his fault.

Yami leaned on the bed, propping an elbow to rest his head in his palm. His own eyes were half-lidded as he watched over his host. His light. His other half.

A shadowed hand reached beneath the blankets to curl around Yugi's warm fingers. And for an hour, Yami just held his hand. All the while keeping an ear out for the family members in the living room.

They would depart eventually after they'd drank some tea and finished their talk.

0000

Yugi managed to traverse the apartment well enough using his crutches. He didn't bother making anything for breakfast. Instead, starting a pot of coffee, and heating up the takeout from the night before in the microwave.

It was upon realizing that he couldn't carry food and a big mug of coffee into the living room that posed the first obstacle. He would have to make two trips.

He let out a defeated moan and buried his head against the counter. Trying to work up the resolve to carry a steaming mug of coffee while using crutches, without spilling, and _then_ make a second trip andsomehow balance a hot plate of food. This seemed like such an inane thing to call a Ryuji for, but right now it felt like a Herculean task.

A sudden rush of movement disturbed his hair, which he hadn't bothered to spike this morning.

Yugi snapped his head up, and barely caught a glimpse of a dark form disappearing into the living room. His eyes darted to the counter where his food and coffee had been only to find them absent.

Leaning on his crutches, he hastily hopped out into the living room after the shadowed figure.

He made it to the living room hoping upon hope to catch another glimpse of the shadow, only to find his food and drink placed neatly on the coffee table. A folded paper towel, and the whiteboard sitting just to the left of them.

"Thank you." He hopped to the couch, carefully lowered himself to the cushions, and propped the crutches against the arm. "Seriously, Yami. Thank you."

The ghost neither showed itself, nor moved anything to acknowledge Yugi's words.

Purple eyes drifted to focus on the whiteboard, and profound relief and elation bubbled up in his chest akin to a fizzy drink. Familiar red scrawl answered all of Yugi's latest questions, and there was even a question at the bottom for him.

Last night's reheated takeout, temporarily forgotten, Yugi scooped up the white board to read the responses.

Yami wasn't mad at him. Yami was still talking. A check of the Tic Tac Toe game. Yami had made a move, and they were stuck in predictable a draw.

He quickly scribbled out a brand new game on the same paper, and drew a purple X.

' _Are you male or female? Or do you prefer neither_?'

' _I am male_.'

A guy. He had a male roommate. Dead roommate. Ghostly incorporeal shadowy roommate. But it was a guy.

' _What is your favorite color_?'

' _Purple_.'

"Oh, did you want the purple marker then?" Yugi held up the dry-erase marker stupidly, as if offering it, but there wasn't anyone else in the room. Nothing happened. No answer, no movement. He deflated a little bit. "You can have it if you want. I can use blue."

Stillness.

"Purple is a pretty color. It's cool that it's your favorite." He was rambling at this point, trying to have a conversation that wouldn't happen. So Yugi focused his attention back on the questions.

' _Do you like music_?'

' _Yes. It is nice_.'

"I'll put on some music sometime," Yugi chirped. "Or I suppose you could too. I wouldn't mind. Just so long as it's not in the middle of the night while I'm asleep." He added the last part as a measure of caution. Yami had been polite so far. Well... sort of polite. He did sometimes do weird shit that scared Yugi, and he had an inkling Yami did it on purpose. But he hoped the ghost wouldn't blare music at the stroke of midnight or something.

' _Why are you here_?'

This question was for Yugi, it was written in red ink.

' _I wanted to live on my own. In my own place. But it's not so bad having you as a roommate.'_

He hoped that answer would be satisfactory, and not offend the ghost. Yugi didn't exactly want to move out. He could, and he could afford to break the lease and move. But he liked this apartment, and he honestly didn't mind sharing it with Yami. Just so long as he stayed as benevolent as he was now.

A knock on the door sent Yugi jumping in place and he winced at the pain. He glanced at his crutches, glanced at the door, glanced back at the crutches, and a steady pulsing of pain reminded him he still needed to take his pain medication.

"Come in!"

He couldn't remember who Ryuji scheduled to visit today, or maybe it was Ryuji. Or maybe it was Seto. Or it could have been his family stopping by again. Yugi uncapped his pill bottle, and popped some painkillers, washing it down with the coffee. Then scarfed down a couple bites of food, so the meds wouldn't hit an empty stomach.

The front door opened and Ryou was standing just outside loosening the ties on his shoes.

He smiled nervously at Yugi from the door.

"Hey! How are you doing? I'm so glad to see you home from the hosp-"

The door suddenly slammed shut, right in Ryou's face.

For a split second Yugi caught a glimpse of something long and black retracting from the corner of the door. In the blink of an eye it disappeared under the couch he was sitting on.

"Yami," he hissed. "That wasn't very nice! Ryou is my friend!"

The door opened again. This time tentatively, and Ryou poked his head in. "Is everything alright?"

"Yes!" Yugi sat up straight and forced a smile. "There was a draft and it made the door slam. Sorry about that Ryou. Please come in."

Ryou was smiling again, pushing open the door and kicking off his untied shoes. He placed them in the shoe shelf Yugi kept next to the door.

One of the throw pillows fell off the couch and onto the floor.

Yugi snapped his attention to it, and glared. "This is petty," he whispered. With discomfort, and more than a little pain he tried to bend down and grab the pillow.

Dark fingers reached out from under the couch and dragged the pillow underneath. Yugi punched the cushions in warning.

"Oh, your hair is unstyled today," Ryou exclaimed. Yugi sat back up and fixed another forced smile on his face. "Given the circumstance I understand, but it's a rare treat indeed to see your hair down."

"It was too much effort. And I'll be home all day anyway."

Ryou moved around the furniture and came to sit next to Yugi. He pulled a backpack off and placed it on the floor next to him.

Yugi glared fiercely at the space between the backpack and the underside of the couch.

"Are you feeling alright?"

He snapped his attention back to his white-haired friend. "Yeah! As well as I can be that is."

Ryou gave him a skeptical look. Concern flashing in his chocolate brown eyes. Ryou was another friend from highschool. He was British, taller than Yugi, but shorter than most of their other friends and he had a keen interest in tabletop RPGs and the occult. His hair was naturally white with no pigment at all, and he had the palest skin, a symptom of his albinism. His eyes would also twitch with subtle rapid movements on occasion, and he'd taken to wearing glasses as he got older due to complications caused by the albinism.

Today Ryou was dressed in a soft black angora sweater, blue jeans, and what looked to be an untucked white button down beneath the sweater. His socks were two different colors and styles today. Which was unusual, but Yugi didn't remark on it.

This made Yugi feel underdressed. He was still wearing his pajama pants, an old t-shirt, and no socks at all. The inverted pyramid of the millennium puzzle was hanging off his neck though. Radiating comfort like it always did.

"I feel like I haven't seen you in ages," Ryou cast a look around the apartment, drinking in the environment, appreciating the feel of the home. "This is a nice place. Do you like it? What's it like living on your own?"

"I love it," Yugi responded truthfully. He relaxed back against the sofa, snatching up his coffee as he did, so he could nurse off it. "And this place is great. Living alone is pretty good too."

An idea flittered across his mind, and it made an devious smile curl mentally. "Though I'm not actually alone~" he added with more than a little musical emphasis on the last word.

Ryou cocked his head to fix his friend with a look of interest. "Do you mean...?"

Yugi nodded behind his cup of coffee, and this time an actual smile curled his mouth.

Ryou spared the apartment another once over, but this time his gaze was searching, scrutinizing the interior with new awareness. "How do you know it's haunted?" This kind of thing was right up Ryou's alley. He loved ghosts and monsters, demons and magic. Horror movies, horror games, voodoo, demonology, if it was creepy and occultish then Ryou probably had his hand in it.

"Oh," Yugi sang, taking another sip from the coffee. "Things moving, strange shadows, glowing eyes, something trying to drag your backpack under my couch." His tone became severe and reprimanding at the end, and he glared down at the space beneath the couch.

Ryou snapped forward to look at his backpack as well, and noticed it was wedged halfway under the sofa.

"Oh dear," he hauled the backpack out, and into his lap. "You were serious."

"Dead serious."

"Is it," Ryou's tone dropped into a hushed tone, "malicious?"

"Only when he stacks my dishes like a poltergeist. For the most part he seems friendly. We've been communicating using that white board." Yugi used his mug to motion to the miniature marker board sitting on the coffee table, with all its colorful questions.

Ryou snagged the board, and studied it with intense fascination. "He talks using a whiteboard? You don't even need a Ouija board?"

"I wouldn't want one in my house."

"He asks you question back? Does he have a name? Did it die here? How long has it been dead?"

Yugi sputtered into his mug at the onslaught of inquiries. "I call him Yami, and he didn't have a name before that. He doesn't remember how old he is. And I haven't worked up the courage to ask how he died." His eyes fell to his lap. "It seems rude to ask."

An expression of meek apology crossed Ryou's features. "I suppose you are right. I'm sorry for being rude, Yami," he addressed the void beneath the couch when he said this. But nothing acknowledged him back. "He's not very social is he?"

Messy blonde bang swayed as Yugi shook his head. "I've been trying to coax him into showing himself for a little while now. No luck yet."

"Hmm," The white-haired male looked thoughtful. "Do you mind if I make myself some tea? I brought some Monster World stuff, and even planned a very very short hour-long campaign. If you are feeling up to it?"

"I would love to play!"

* _Fwump!_ *

Both men started as something under the couch made a loud thump.

"You can play too, Yami. If you'd like." Ryou sounded unfazed as he extended the invitation to the apartment's ghost.

"He told me he likes games."

"Then he should love this one. It's like the game to end all games." Ryou suddenly clutched his chest when he said this, wincing a bit.

Yugi raised a brow in concern.

"I'm ok. Just some... heart burn." He bolted up from the couch and smiled, but it looked strained. He jerked his head while he spoke, in a usual tic that Yugi was accustomed to. "I'm going to make that tea now."

Purple eyes trailed Ryou as he left the room, then fixed a glare back on the couch. "Be nice to Ryou or we won't play Tik Tac Toe anymore."

Predictably, no response.

They played the Monster World campaign, which ended up taking two hours instead of one. In that time Yugi managed to finish his leftover take out, and had a second cup of coffee, courtesy of Ryou. Around lunch time Ryuji stopped by with more food. Yugi had made sure to text him to bring something for Ryou, and it just so happened to be Ryuji's lunch time as well. So the three of them passed about introductions and ate together.

As it turned out Ryuji was fascinated with Monster World, as well as with Ryou's custom dice collection, and the two caught on like a house on fire.

Which was just as well, because Yugi was feeling wiped. He felt content to simply recline into the sofa, listening to his friend and personal assistant discuss tabletop RPGs and dice.

He must have dozed off, because when his brain clicked back on and he opened his eyes again, Ryuji was crouching next to him gently tugging on his shoulder.

"I'm awake."

"You are now," Ryuji chuckled. "Ryou packed up and went home. He said to thank you for the tea, and the game."

Bleary eyes blinked away the fuzziness of sleep, and Yugi attempted to sit up and had to bite back pain. "He left without saying goodbye?"

"You were asleep."

"You could have woken me up."

Green eyes looked skeptical, but Ryuji didn't say anything. Instead he popped the cap off of Yugi's pain medication and handed him the bottle.

Yugi took them gratefully, extracting a pill, then traded the bottle for a glass of water that his assistant was offering. He took the meds, washing them down with the water.

"Tomorrow, your friends Jonouchi and Honda will be coming over."

"I'm looking forward to it," Yugi twisted with some effort and grabbed the remote off the end table. Turning on the tv and bringing up Netflix. "Those two are like a two-man comedy act."

"You don't want to go to bed?" his assistant inquired, straightening up from his crouch and stepping out of the way of the TV.

Yugi shook his head. He thumbed through several titles, looking but not actually seeing them. "Not yet. Sorry for falling asleep on you guys."

Shoulders shrugged noncommittally, as if to say Ryuji wasn't bothered at all by spending the afternoon talking RPGs with Ryou Bakura.

"You should play Monster World with us next time."

Ryuji coughed. He looked startled by this. Blinking dumbly down at his diminutive boss. "You do realize I'm on the clock whenever I'm here, right?"

"Seto can pay you to play Monster World, I won't mind," Yugi smiled smugly up at his assistant. "I'll text Ryou and ask when he's free to come over." He tossed down the remote and whipped out his phone. His thumbs furiously texting even while Ryuji's mouth opened and closed much like a fish's.

Finally it appeared he found his words, only to voice an objection, "Mutou-San, I'm supposed to be helping you while I'm here."

Yugi didn't even look up from his cell phone. "And you can help me beat Ryou's next campaign. He's says it's going to be tougher next time. How does Wednesdays and Fridays sound?"

"Mutou-San—"

"I might be your boss," he cut in. "but I'd prefer it if you called me Yugi. Besides, we're practically the same age, and let's be honest, the only reason I'm not an assistant too is because Seto likes me." When he said the last part his shoulders drooped and a wave of despondency settled over him like a wet blanket. He was reminded of the reason he'd been hit by a car, and nearly killed. "I don't deserve your respect." Someone tried to kill him. Tears were already stinging at the corners of his eyes, and Yugi had to bite the inside of his cheek to keep them back. He didn't deserve his position at all.

"That's bullshit!"

He flinched at the sudden exclamation.

"You are the 'King of Games.' The reigning champion of Duel Monsters in the country. Not to mention that you've made nationals in the Pokémon TCG, you defeated Seto Kaiba's Death-T event on National Television when you were sixteen, and you've competed head to head with Mokuba Kaiba in several national Capsule Monsters tournaments, and won more than once." Ryuji was huffing from the passion in this speech, fists balled at his sides. "There is no one in this company I respect more than you. And it was an honor to be assigned as your personal assistant. I came to work for Kaiba Corp in hopes that I could pitch a game, and have it funded. I'm not in a position to do that yet, but I don't regret for a second being made your assistant in the mean time."

Against his will, Yugi was actually crying now. Tears spitefully streaming down his cheeks no matter how hard he tried to blink them back. He hated it. So much. But at least he wasn't wearing any eyeliner today, and didn't have to worry about it running.

"I'd love to hear about your game sometime," he said around the choked feeling in his throat. "Maybe I could help you pitch it to Seto."

Ryuji pinned him with a hard look that would have had him recoiling if he wasn't recovering from a pelvic fracture. "I'm not going to take advantage of you while you are drugged up, injured, and in a state of self-loathing." He moved to sit on the couch, across from his boss, and twirled a lock of his inky black hair around his finger. "But I'd be honored to call you Yugi, from now on. And maybe I can show you my game when you aren't so low?"

Yugi dragged the neck of his t-shirt over his face. Mopping the tears away. When he looked up again it was with a lopsided, and still kinda watery smile. "I'd like that."

"Good." Ryuji returned the smile, and it was genuine. "So, I guess I should schedule Ryou Bakura for Wednesdays and Fridays then?"

Yugi felt his puzzle burn white hot, before suddenly turning ice cold and hanging off his neck like the weight of a brick. He placed a hand over the artifact, but paid it no mind.

"Book him for the entirety of both days."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Ryou has eyes problems, caused by his Albinism in this fic, and wears glasses as an adult. I read up on Albinism and found that the mutation also causes a slew of sight problems. He also has a tic, of tilting, jerking, or shifting his head, as a method of counteracting the subtle but rapid jerking of his eyes that spring up on occasion. I like it when fictional characters have real human problems. If you don't like it, please see yourself out of this fic.
> 
> I'm updating today as a birthday present to me. Please enjoy the new chapter. and if you are enjoying the fic, please drop a comment about it. It would really make my day. Thanks!


	8. The Yugi with All the Gifts

"Microwave Cooking for One?" Yugi read the cover of the book in his hands aloud.

Jonouchi and Honda grinned at him from their respective seats. Jonouchi was in the old recliner chair, while Honda perched on the other side of the couch from Yugi. Jonouchi's younger sister Shizuka was also with them today. She sat next to Honda and smiled politely.

When Shizuka was younger she'd spent a lot of time in hospitals due to her poor health, but these days she was doing much better. Only going in for frequent check-ups. Yugi thought she looked much healthier, having put on weight, with glossier hair and a bright smile.

"We figured since ya live alone, and can't do a lotta baking or normal cooking right now, that this book would come in handy," explained Jonouchi.

Yugi flipped through the cook book, noting it was all in English, and that most of the foods were stereotypical American cuisine. He stopped on a recipe for a single portion of microwave meatloaf. _Eew?_

He fixed an appreciative expression on his face when he looked up and beamed at his friends. "This was very thoughtful guys. Where did you even find this?"

"We saw some idiots online making recipes from it. So we ordered it for you," Honda replied.

Yugi pursed his lips and looked down at the book again. It wasn't like he'd been out of the hospital that long, so if they ordered it online they probably paid extra for expedient shipping. Which was thoughtful, even if they did it as a practical joke. He couldn't actually tell. "I'm sure I'll make good use of it."

"We should make something from it right now!" crowed Jonouchi. He was already hopping up from the recliner. His stretched out crew socks were nearly falling off his feet, and there was a hole on one of them, as the blonde man kicked his feet like a prancing devil.

Yugi leaned around Honda and shot Shizuka a pleading look.

"I think we should make him the pudding," she chimed, rising from the couch more gracefully than her brother, but the smile she wore complimented her brother's prancing. "It requires such common ingredients, and Yugi probably already has them."

Honda patted Yugi's leg and winked at him. before he too got up to follow the other two into the kitchen. Dishes were already clanging from the other room and he could hear Jonouchi hollering about the location of the microwave safe dishes.

"I'm going to die..." Yugi carefully and gingerly flopped back against the couch and shut his eyes.

Someone stroked his hand sympathetically.

* * *

Anzu came to visit the next day.

Yugi was seated on the couch per usual, his posture oddly stiff when she entered the apartment.

She wore a denim skirt and stockings, with a white blouse and a short pink jacket. Her style hadn't changed much since she and Yugi were in highschool. She still preferred pastel colors and cute clothes that leaned a little more into 90's fashion than she ever wanted to admit. But it suited her.

When she stepped into the apartment her bubbly greeting died on her tongue.

Hard red eyes stared at her from Yugi's face.

"Oh..." she mumbled sheepishly. And her whole demeanor curled in on itself. "Uh... hi, Yugi?"

"Hello, Anzu." Yugi replied formally. He sounded neither surly nor welcoming. Just, polite.

"Is everything alright?" She pressed on. Seemingly steeling her nerves, she kicked off her shoes while balancing a package of some kind of food.

"I am fine."

Anzu gave him a skeptical look. She noted the way Yugi sat on the couch, unnatural, uncomfortably rigid. He had dark circles under his eyes, and it wasn't the effect of any make-up, because he wasn't wearing any. His hair hung limp and tousled, not styled, not even brushed. In fact it looked like he had barely gotten up in time to visit with her, and had only managed to get dressed. Is clothes, at least, were very put together. He wore a white short-sleeved button down shirt. With all the buttons done up. Very un-like Yugi. And he wore a pair of black slacks, neat and wrinkle free.

She almost would have swore he dressed himself for work. Or intended to go out and be a stereotypical Mormon missionary.

"Why are you dressed so... formal?" She waved a hand at him, and shut the front door. But didn't move any farther into the apartment.

Yugi looked down at himself, appraising the clothing. Fingers brushed the buttons on his shirt. He appeared to take in exactly what he'd chosen, and wrinkled his nose with distaste. "Leather was too hard to get on," he answered in a low voice.

"How is the injury?" She was reminded of the reason for her visit, and steered the topic of conversation back to that. "Was it _that_ bad?"

His head snapped up, eyes hard, as if measuring the implications behind her words. "It could have been worse," he said carefully.

She stepped a little farther in. But there was an apparent wariness in her approach. "That's not what I—I mean. It's... it's been awhile."

Yugi studied her intently. "Yes..." he began in a guarded tone, "a few months. It's good to see you again, Anzu. Please, take a seat." He gestured to one of the available spots, on the couch or in the recliner.

Anzu took the other side of the couch. She placed the package of food on the table.

Minutes ticked by, and neither of them spoke. Which was equally unlike Yugi, who was normally a chatterbox.

Finally when the tension in the air felt nearly palpable Anzu broke the silence.

"Why are you here?"

Yugi flinched, hands moving to the puzzle at his neck as if on reflex. "I live here."

"Ok, but why are _you_ here right now?" She placed a significant amount of emphasis in the one word, and stared him straight in the eye.

Blood red eyes dropped. Losing focus as his hands fell to his lap, and his fingers curled like someone fighting against a sort of inner turmoil.

"Nightmares." He whispered. "I couldn't stop them. He-I kept reliving the accident. Then the meds wore off in the night, and it hurt, so so much. I couldn't... save..."

Anzu placed a gentle hand on his knee, concern and gentle understanding in her expression. "And what are you doing?"

Yugi met her eyes again. "Sleeping," he said slowly. "Today... the pain is mine."

She straightened up at that and leaned back into the couch. Her whole posture seeming to relax at that cryptic shared knowledge. A soft smile alighted her features for the first time since she entered the apartment. "You were always like that."

Yugi was giving her a perplexed look now. Head cocked to the side, he was fidgeting with his puzzle again.

"You protect. You always have," she continued, "I didn't really understand back in highschool. What you were. And I used Yu—I hurt you. I'm really sorry for that. I didn't know anything about it back then, about your condition."

"My... condition." It wasn't really a question, but he stared intently.

Anzu pointed to her own head, and gave a nervous smile. "You know."

"Right," he concluded. "A... disorder."

"It's not a bad thing. You're my friend and always will be. And I accept you. All of you," she assured. "I was ignorant in highschool. And... I'm sorry."

Yugi said nothing. Simply stared at his puzzle, idly brushing his thumb over the gold in an oddly affectionate way. After a minute, he finally spoke again. "You have nothing to apologize for, Anzu. Although I appreciate the sentiment. Thank you for being my friend."

She smiled at that. Like a huge weight had been lifted from her shoulders. And really it had.

"What did you bring me?" He gestured down at the package on the coffee table, effectively changing the course of the conversation.

"The usual, I made you a bunch of rice balls. I figured they would be easy to eat and you wouldn't want to do much cooking in your condition."

Yugi chuckled, low and disquieting. Such an usual sound from the typically bubbly and friendly man. Anzu remembered that laugh though. She'd heard it many times at a teenager. It had been many years since she'd last heard it and that it caught her off guard. Just the tiniest bit.

"You should see what Jonouchi and Honda got for me," he smiled, a small one but genuine.

"Those idiots. They bought you that cookbook didn't they?"

"Apparently, they are under the impression that it's not that I can't cook, I just need to cook less and in a microwave."

She rolled her eyes, and stifled a laugh. "I swear, those two."

"They force fed me warm pudding and egg fried rice."

Her whole face wrinkled in disgust, and they both had a laugh.

"Speaking of cooking though," he expertly segued, "Do you know how to cook a hamburger?"

Anzu's laughter trailed off. Her brows drew together and forehead creased. "Yes. They're your favorite food..."

"They are," Yugi replied significantly. "And I would like to learn how to make one at home. A very nice one. With godly bacon... and Dijon ketchup?" He said the last part with a hopeful uncertainty.

"There's no such thing as Dijon ketchup."

Yugi gave her his most serious look. "Then we must make it."

* * *

Yami stood in a room full of toys. There were a couple of match box cars next to his left foot and a stuffed bear near his right. There was also a half finished jigsaw puzzle, some pieces scattered haphazardly underfoot.

He approached the bed that was in the room. It was a single bed, with white cotton sheets and a big fluffy comforter. The surface was littered with several stuffed animals, one of them a Blue Eyes White Dragon, much to his distaste.

No matter how many times he tossed the stuffed dragon onto the floor among the other toys, it always managed to find it way back on the bed.

Today there was another occupant among the blankets besides stuffed toys.

Yami drew close until his legs made contact with frame. He stared down at a young man in the bed, sleeping peacefully. And his gaze softened.

He reached out with a very human hand and ran fingers ever so gently over the man's cheek. When he brushed a lock of blonde hair, he tucked it lovingly behind a pale ear.

"Yugi, It's time to wake up."

The young man in the bed stirred. A murmur of protest.

"Wake up, my light." Yami gently touched the puzzle at his chest and it glowed softly.

Before he could fully rouse and realize his surroundings, the young man in the bed dissolved like a dream. The blankets fell back into place in his absence. And then Yami was alone in the soul room once more.

* * *

A whole week rolled by and Yugi continued this back and forth game of questions with Yami.

' _What's your favorite kind of music?'_

' _The music in your puzzle game is nice. Block stacking game. Tetris?'_

Yugi had been playing quite a bit of Tetris on his gameboy that week.

' _Are you lonely?'_

' _Sometimes. But not as much anymore.'_

That made Yugi feel a little warm inside. Maybe a lot warm. He wanted to believe that his presence made the ghost feel less lonely. That perhaps the ghost appreciated their small but tentative friendship as much as he did.

' _Do you know any other ghosts?'_

' _Yes. But, you don't want to be his friend.'_

Yami never asked more than one question at a time, and they were never anything overly personal. Yugi found the apartment ghost to be incredibly polite.

' _What is your favorite game?'_

' _That's tough. I like so many games. But I really like playing Duel Monsters with my boss. He's very good.'_

Yami still refused to reveal himself to Yugi, no matter how much he pestered. And as disappointing as it was he couldn't really blame the ghost for being shy. How many people had it terrified before him? It was entirely probable that Yami had a lengthy history of scaring past tenants with his appearance. Decades of people fleeing in terror would do a number on anyone's self esteem.

Yugi could only imagine.

By the end of the week they'd filled up an entire sheet of paper with completed Tic Tac Toe games, and had begun playing Connect Four. This was just as tedious though, because Yami refused to make a move unless Yugi was asleep or out fo the room.

Eventually Yugi pulled out a Checkers board as well, and they began playing Connect Four and Checkers simultaneously.

Yami was wickedly fantastic at both games, and kept Yugi on his toes.

Ryuji stopped by everyday to assist Yugi, run errands, bring food, and go shopping. He was mildly perplexed by the pile of half-played games on the coffee table, but didn't press further than a casual inquiry.

To which Yugi hastily explained they were just games he played with his guests.

The one time Ryuji tried cleaning up the checkers board while Yugi napped, the television had suddenly come on, sound blaring at max volume.

Yugi had startled awake with a yelp, and it nearly made Ryuji leap from his skin, sending both of them scrambling all over the room looking for the television remote. Well, Ryuji had scrambled; Yugi patted around the couch cushions in case he'd sat on it, or it had slipped in between. It had been loud enough to make the entertainment center shake, and the neighbors bang angrily against the wall. They'd gotten the TV shut off, the remote was located beneath the couch. And in the end Yugi had asked him politely to leave the games alone.

When Ryou came over for Monster World they played at the kitchen table. Ryuji and Ryou worked together to move the recliner into the kitchen for the duration of the game, so that Yugi had a gentle place to sit. Then they moved it back to the living room before Ryou left for the evening.

Ryou didn't question this at all, much to Ryuji's surprise and bewilderment. He seemed entirely satisfied to just roll and indulge Yugi's eccentric behaviors.

When Friday rolled around it found Yugi in the kitchen, setting a large tea kettle on the stove, tea bags steeping inside with the heat on low.

He wanted the tea ready for when Ryou showed up for their new Monster World campaign. Ryou drank an obscene amount of tea. Yugi and Ryuji had also taken to drinking it as well during their games out of sheer solidarity. Even though Yugi preferred coffee.

Ryou was due to show up any minute, so he hopped into the living room on his crutches and settled onto the couch to wait.

And wait.

And maybe nod off because Ryou was late.

00

Yami sat in the chair playing on Yugi's gameboy and silently seething. He'd tried to warn Yugi. Sort of.

He'd written _'Get out,'_ in big bold letters on the white board on Wednesday. Then left it in the most conspicuous place, so that Ryou would definitely see it.

The most he'd accomplished was receiving a harsh scolding from Yugi, and delighted chuckling from Ryou. Neither of them took him seriously at all. And if anything Ryou was even _more_ fascinated with him.

Now it was Friday, and the frail british host was coming back for another Monster World game. And this time they intended to play a proper campaign. Dioramas, sets, miniatures, everything. It was everything Yami dreaded. And there was nothing he could do short of possessing Yugi and telling a Ryou off. But then Yugi would hate him for it.

Golden eyes shifted their attention from the game, to his napping host on the couch. He prayed that this session would be just as uneventful as the last two, but cold dread still wormed it's way around his chest and filled him with wordless anxiety.

If anything happened, Yugi's body was in no condition for a shadow game. And his magic was limited as a mere shadow.

Resigned, he returned his attention to the little handheld console, intent on breaking Yugi's high score before everyone showed up for the campaign.

Yami couldn't actually smell anything in the physical world. Not without possessing Yugi's body. He'd also been preoccupied with the Tetris game and watching Yugi sleep. So, he didn't notice something was amiss until he entered the kitchen and saw smoke trailing from the mouth of the tea pot.

He rushed to the stove in a sudden blur, rotating a dial to shut off the flames. He'd seen Yugi work it before, but back at home they'd had an electric stove, and the gas one was a new concept to him.

A large burst of flames licked at his incorporeal face. That was the wrong direction.

Panicked he snatched a towel and threw it on the fire, attempting to stamp it out. The towel promptly caught fire.

Yami smashed the dial the other direction, killing the heat, and ripped the smoldering towel away. He tossed it on the floor, and let part of his form ooze over it, engulfing it, and smothering the flames.

Then he pried the lid off the tea pot and peeked inside.

More smoke billowed out from the roasted remains of tea bags caked at the bottom.

Hastily Yami moved the pot off the stove and onto the counter, where it immediately made a hissing noise, and burned a brown ring into the countertop.

He yanked it up again, clutching it between hands that could not feel heat. A shadow tentacle scooped the blackened towel off the floor.

The spirit made a frantic circle around the kitchen holding the smoking items and wondering where he could possibly hide them. He wasn't even sure why he felt the need to hide them. The forgotten tea kettle had been Yugi's own doing after all. But the resulting fire was entirely Yami's fault.

He was about ready to stuff everything inside the oven when he heard the sound of the front door opening.

"Is something burning in here?" asked a lightly British accented voice. A pulse of shadow magic echoed from the entrance of the apartment. Magic that did not belong to Yami.

Something dark festered deep inside his chest, until Yami felt his whole form erupt in a chaos of writhing tendrils.

Then Yugi screamed in pain.

00

"Tea!" Yugi bolted awake with a start, toppling off the couch and jarring his injured hip. He screamed.

"Yugi!" Ryou started for his friend, one shoe still on. "Are you al-"

Before he could make it two steps an angry black mass burst from the kitchen. Golden eyes blazed like the fires of hell, and a third eye, different from the others, swirled around madly before fixing its pupil on Ryou.

A black arm shot out from the mass.

Something charred and red flew across the room, smacking Ryou harmlessly in shoulder. It fell to the ground in a sad pile. It might have been a towel once.

This was followed immediately by something far more substantial.

A tea kettle hurled straight at Ryou's head.

A pale hand shot up and caught the kettle before it connected with its target.

Slowly, Ryou lifted his gaze from the floor. White bangs revealing sharp eyes, dark and unfamiliar on Ryou's normally soft features. A sadistic smile curled slowly from the corners of his mouth.

"Nice try," he purred, voice sinister and low. He released the kettle and it dropped to the floor with a jarring clatter, rolling until it bumped into the wall.

The shadow edged around the room towards Yugi who was still moaning in agony. But its eyes never left the grinning Ryou in the entryway. The two stared each other down like circling cats waiting for the other to make the first move. It had just made it to the edge of the couch when Ryuji entered the apartment with an arm full of boxes.

All at once the three-eyed spirit melted into the shadows beneath the furniture closest to Yugi.

"There's still another box in your car, Bakura. I'll put these ones on the kitchen table if you can get the other one."

Ryou suddenly snapped back to himself and nearly vaulted over the couch.

"Yugi! Yugi are you alright!? Oh my god. Should I call someone?"

Ryuji dropped the boxes full of Monster World paraphernalia and whipped out his phone. He was already jamming in a number when Yugi responded through gritted teeth.

"I'm ok. I fell off the couch. You... you don't need to call anyone."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Anzu believes Yugi has DID in this fic. She does not know Yami and Yugi are two separate people.
> 
> I do not despise Anzu from YGO DM. Her character is pretty great in DM. But I’m not personally a fan of Anzu’s behavior towards Yugi and Yami in season zero. She used Yugi to lure out Yami in the waterpark episode. Nearly got Yugi drowned, while she faked drowning herself. Then falsely accused Jonouchi of being a pervert and touching her weird, and got the shit beat out of him. All this in hopes that she could lure Yami. 
> 
> You could argue that she didn’t know they were two separate souls at the time and this is true. She didn’t. She thought they were the same person. But that makes her behavior SO SO much worse. That means she was under the impression Yugi had Dissociative Identity Disorder, played favorites with his personalities, and tried to put herself (and by extension Yugi) in danger just to woo the personality that she preferred. You don’t pick and choose your favorite part of someone with DID, you love and accept all of them. 
> 
> That being said. She was a teenager. Who probably didn’t fully comprehend what DID was. And made some stupid mistakes. Teens make stupid mistakes, and they deserve to be forgiven. I like to believe she grew up, realized what she did was pretty shitty, and apologizes. 
> 
> I don’t want to see or hear any Anzu bashing in my comments section.


	9. Kaibas Are Not Afraid

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Because people insist on pissing and moaning about my inclusion of Seto Kaiba in this fanfic...
> 
> Well now there is MORE Kaiba. Twice as much. A second breakfast of both Kaibas.
> 
> Die mad. 
> 
> If you keep it up I’ll make this a Flareshipping fanfic. I am that spiteful.
> 
> To Everyone Else, please enjoy this new chapter. Finally some good Puzzle bonding is happening.

Twenty minutes had barely passed since the incident and Yugi was astonished to see Seto Kaiba at his doorstep. Seto, who should have been at work. Seto, who no doubt had a long day of meetings, appointments, and paperwork, not to mention a corporation to run. Seto, who normally sent his younger brother to check in on Yugi because... because he was Seto Kaiba.

Seto strode into the apartment, as if he owned the place. Mokuba Kaiba trailed in after him, appearing behind a billow of Seto's long black trench coat.

"Bro, your shoes. Yugi doesn't like shoes on in his house."

Seto's entire expression turned dark, and he tilted his head until his long brown bangs covered his eyes. With a huff he bent to start unlatching all the buckles on his extremely elaborate boots. It was a sight indeed to see the two imposing Kaiba brother's struggle to take their shoes off in Yugi's entryway.

Realization dawned on Yugi. "You tattled on me," he accused, shooting a look at his assistant.

Ryuji flinched under the weight of that look. "You didn't want me to call a doctor."

"So you called Seto Kaiba?!"

Ryuji flinched again, harder, and nervously twisted a curly black lock of hair around one of his fingers. "I texted him that you fell off the couch, but that you declined any medical attention. I don't know why he's here now."

"Mokuba, call my private physician," Seto instructed as he finally straightened up, depositing his knee high boots next to the shoe shelf. There was no way on god's green earth they were going to fit on the shelf itself.

Mokuba deposited his own, much humbler shoes, on the shelf and whipped out a cell phone.

"Mokuba, do not call that physician," Yugi countered. He switched his glare to Seto.

Seto folded his arms over his chest, but did not step further into the apartment.

"I fell off the couch and jarred my butt," Yugi explained tensely. "Are you going to call your private physician every time I stub my toe? Unless they are taking x-rays to see if I made my fracture worse, which I probably didn't, I really doubt they're going to do more than prod me a bit and ask me to take it easy. And I _promise_ you I don't intend to roll off the couch again. Once was perfect."

Seto's mouth drew into a hard line and the shadow over his eyes, cast by his bangs, seemed darker than ever. "Fine. Mokuba, cancel that call."

Mokuba, who had already put away his phone when Yugi told him not to call, looked sheepish. He made a point of pretending to put his phone away again for Seto's benefit.

Ryuji and Ryou were standing by the kitchen, they seemed to feel the tension in the air, because they fidgeted nervously. Ryuji twisting his hair, and Ryou stroking his chest oddly.

"We'll go set up the Monster World stuff on the table," Ryou said, he took a handful of Ryuji's sleeve and dragged him into the kitchen as well. Ryuji didn't so much as protest. He followed along willingly, seeming to share Ryou's eagerness to escape the Kaiba's. The muffled sounds of boxes being unpacked in the kitchen were the only noises for several long moments.

Mokuba took this as his cue to break the tension. "Yugi! I haven't seen you since I drove you home from the hospital." He pushed past Seto who was taking up most of the entryway still, and hurried to the couch where Yugi was sitting. Mokuba bent over the back of it to give him a hug and Yugi accepted enthusiastically, returning the gesture. "Are you sure you're ok? Bro, freaked out when he got the text. Stormed out of his meeting with the other execs and everything."

"Mokuba," Seto's tone was ice. He stalked into the room, swatting his brother on the side of the head, before moving to stand behind the recliner. Rather than sit, he leaned and crossed his arms over the back rest.

Mokuba leaned closer to Yugi's ear and whispered, "he drove here himself. Sped the whole way. Probably would have arrived in the helicopter if your apartment building had a landing pad."

"Mokuba!"

The younger Kaiba finally heeded the warning in his brother's tone and backed off with a cheeky grin. "Work isn't the same without you. Nobody plays Capsule Monsters with me on my break, and Seto's a grouch all the time."

"That's nothing new," Yugi shot a grin at Seto who was still glowering at them. "I was wondering when you guys would come to visit. Everyone else has. I didn't know hurting myself was the Kaiba Corp bat signal."

"I don't have time for this," Seto huffed. He turned his face away but not before Yugi caught the color in his cheeks. He pushed off the back of the recliner and walked around the couch, snagging the back of Mokuba's collar as he passed. "Let's go."

"Wait!" Yugi caught Seto's bracer and held onto it. The metal was cool to the touch, but the texture of the bands made it easy enough to grip. "I'm sorry for teasing. I'm glad you're here."

"Hmph."

Mokuba was released, but Yugi didn't let go. Seto stared at the slender hand with the black painted fingernails with an unreadable expression.

Mokuba glanced between them curiously. Awkwardness squirmed in his stomach and Yugi let go of Seto's wrist. Seto's arm dropped back to his side. Both men avoided eye contact.

The younger Kaiba exhaled loudly through his nose. "Can I get you a pillow, Yugi?" Mokuba offered brightly. "Do you have a heated blanket? I can order you one if you don't. You're supposed to be keeping your hips warm. I looked it up. But I'm sure the doctors already told you, huh?"

"I have a blanket, it's in the bedroom."

Before Yugi could say anymore, Mokuba took off down the hall towards the bedroom. It was just like a Kaiba to act as if they owned the place. Yugi chanced a look at Seto, who was still glowering at everything and looking extremely uncomfortable.

"Seto," Yugi began, getting the CEO's attention. He had something on his mind that had gnawed away at him ever since his encounter with Mr. Mashima. "Is what you pay me normal for my position?"

"You're an asset to me and I pay you accordingly," Seto replied cryptically.

"But you pay me more than the other expense managers."

Seto was silent. It was all the confirmation he needed.

"That's why Mr. Mashima hit me with a car..." Yugi continued in a broken whisper.

Seto smashed his hands against the back of the couch and about startled Yugi into rolling off of it again. "Stop trying to find sympathy for everyone! That man hit you with a car because he was an unstable idiot with a vendetta against me. Your paycheck is irrelevant. Money isn't an excuse to attempt murder."

"But petty rivalry over losing in a children's card game totally is," Mokuba chimed. He reentered the living room carrying an electric heating blanket.

"Shut up, Mokuba."

His brother merely grinned cheekily as he moved around the couch and plugged the blanket into a power strip. Mokuba motioned for Yugi to recline back, and spread the blanket over his lap. Then he arranged some pillows around, piling them behind Yugi's back.

"How's that?"

"Great." Yugi gave him a sincere smile. The younger Kaiba really didn't have to make this effort. And they could just as easily have ordered Ryuji to do all this. But they didn't.

The mention of Yugi and Seto's history always sent Seto into a brooding mood. Yugi had forgiven him years ago, opting to move past it, and forge a friendship through rivalry and respect. But Seto seemed to ice over at the mention of Death-T and all the incidents preceding it. While he never openly apologized for it, Yugi felt the remorse in every gesture Seto made since they became friends. A verbal apology would have been nice, but actions spoke louder than words.

Seto was here now, and so was his brother. Both of them fussing over Yugi when they had much more important business back at Kaiba Corp. Seto had also covered all of Yugi's hospital bills, and not once did he mention a word about it or lord it over Yugi's head.

Yugi couldn't help the bubble of warmth he felt at their presence. Just like Jonouchi, Honda and Anzu, Seto and Mokuba had become some of his best friends.

"Yugi?" Ryou's inquiring voice captured the attention of everyone in the living room. He stood in the doorway to the kitchen holding a tea kettle. "What exactly were you doing with this kettle that resulted in a fire?"

Yugi shrank back against the arm of the couch, and his face flushed with embarrassment. "Making tea?"

"And you put all the tea bags in beforehand?"

"Yes? I figured I'd make all the tea ahead of time so there was plenty for everyone."

Ryou's face screwed up with several expressions before he opened his mouth and said, "and you fell asleep while it was still on the stove?"

Mortification threatened to eat him alive. Yugi's eyes dropped to the floor. "My medication makes me sleepy..."

Kaiba snorted, but didn't say anything. Mokuba had the decency to be sympathetic and pat Yugi on the shoulder.

Ryou looked as if he was going to say something else, but he quickly changed the subject back to tea, "you do realize you don't steep tea like this, right? Steeping tea too long releases tannins from the leaves that make it go bitter."

"Oh..." He wanted to curl up and die. Seto was in the room listening to this and everything. Probably judging him so hard.

"But I appreciate the thought," Ryou quickly added when he saw how Yugi withdrew in shame.

Seto cleared his throat, commanding everyone's attention. "So let me get this straight. You made tea and put all the tea bags in the kettle, left the stove on while you fell asleep on the couch, and your kitchen caught on fire? Otogi texted that you fell off the couch and hurt yourself, but never mentioned anything about a fire."

"The kitchen is fine," assured Ryou, stepping in for his friend's defense. "Aside from a burnt towel that Yami threw at me, and a brown ring on the countertop, everything is great. Seems like your spooky roommate was looking out for you, Yugi."

Seto whipped his head around to stare incredulously at Ryou. "Who the hell is Yami?"

"Oh... he-uh, he's uh..." Ryou looked to Yugi for help, who simply raised his brows, then back at Seto. "He tried to steal my backpack?"

Steel blue eyes narrowed into slits under Seto's bangs.

"My apartment is haunted," Yugi explained with an awkward half-smile. "Yami is my ghost roommate."

Those steel eyes turned their glare on him. "No. No way. I do not believe in this ghost bullshit. You," Seto jabbed a finger at Ryou, "are an enabler and will look for a haunting in the dregs at the bottom of your tea cup. And you," he jabbed his finger at Yugi next, "stop being so gullible. Just because Jonouchi and Honda make up bad horror stories doesn't mean they're true."

"Yugi," Ryou started, his tone indignant, "ask Yami to move something in the room. Prove it to Kaiba."

"I don't know..." Yugi began hesitantly. "It seems kinda rude to ask him to do that. He's really shy... and what if he doesn't want to?"

"No," waved Kaiba with a sneer, "its's fine. He can prove it to me. Right now. What's it's name? Darkness? Well _Darkness,_ do something spooky, I dare you."

The four occupants of the room looked about expectantly.

Nothing happened.

The only sound was Ryuji diligently setting up Monster World dioramas in the kitchen, and the only movement was the shifting of the men in the living room.

Seto graciously let a couple minutes elapse. Then he let out a huff of superior amusement. "See? bullshit. There isn't anything supernatural. Yugi is living alone and on medication, and you're just delusional." He said the last part looking pointedly at Ryou.

Ryou opened his mouth a few times to protest, but never got a word out.

"Bro, Yugi said it was shy. Maybe it's too scared to show itself?" Mokuba spoke up as a voice of reason, trying to give the other two the benefit of the doubt.

Seto rolled his eyes.

"This is ridiculous. You're going about this all wrong," Ryou suddenly interjected, his voice coming out odd, lower and sharper. He shot a nasty sneer at Seto, adjusted his black-framed glasses, and started around the furniture towards the coffee table. "If you want to draw him out you have to do this!"

Ryou swept his arm across the table, sending all the games to the floor. Colorful game pieces from Checkers and Connect Four bounced along the carpet. A flurry of little papers, with Tic Tac Toe games drawn on them, fluttered to the floor as well.

Yugi was the one to react though. He shot up into a sitting position wincing as he did so.

"Ryou! Why?! What in the world is wrong with you?!" Despite the pain, Yugi bent forward and attempted to collect the game pieces off the floor. Even though they were just games, it stung like Ryou had smashed something precious.

Mokuba rushed to assist him, picking up pieces from the opposite side of the table, as well as the Checker's game board. Yugi picked up the Connect Four structure, and righted it on the table.

Ryou suddenly stumbled back and clapped a hand over his mouth. He clutched at the sweater material on his chest. "Y-Yugi, I'm so sorry. I don't—I don't know what came over me!"

Seto looked down at a red Checker's piece that had landed near his socked foot. He stooped down and scooped it off the floor, then placed it carefully on the table with the other collected pieces.

"This has all been _very_ enlightening, but I really must be going. Mokuba, c'mon, we're going to be late."

"For what?" The younger Kaiba inquired. "You bailed on your last meeting and told me and your secretary to cancel the next one. We're free for another hour at least."

Seto narrowed his eyes so hard they might have shot lasers intended to melt his little brother into the floor.

"Oh right~" Mokuba corrected himself. He made a show of smacking his palm into his forehead. "We had an appointment to get you a full body wax!" He shot an impish grin at Yugi as he scrambled up from the floor. "Brother is real serious about manscaping these days."

Seto's lips pressed together in a hard line, and his jaw clenched so tight you could hear the creak of his teeth grinding.

Without another word, Seto stormed out of the apartment. He didn't even bother to slip his boots back on. Just snatched them from beside the shoe shelf, threw open the front door and stomped out into the hall on socked feet. Only Seto Kaiba could stomp in socked feet and still manage to look intimidating.

Mokuba raced after him, slipping his own sneakers on quickly, without even bothering to lace them up. "Goodbye Yugi! We'll be back to visit soon."

In the wake of the Kaiba's abrupt departure, Yugi was left recovering from the emotional whiplash. He glanced at the other male in the room with him.

Ryou was looking miserable as he picked up game pieces from the floor.

Yugi bent a picked up a black piece. He winced and placed it in a stack with other black Connect Four chips. Ryou didn't talk and so neither did he, but the question of "why?" still hung heavily in the air.

He swept his hand under the couch to find any stray chips and felt strange fingers brush his. It was everything Yugi had not to scream and yank his hand back. In his hesitation, three game pieces were pressed into his palm, and the phantom hand closed Yugi's fingers over them. Then it withdrew.

A violent shudder swept his body. Yugi sat up and stared at the three checkers pieces in his hand. He could feel the hairs on the back of his neck standing up, his skin prickled with goosebumps from the brief encounter.

Yami was very good at startling him.

"Yugi, I'm really sorry."

He snapped his head away from the the pieces to look at Ryou.

"I-I blacked out again... and this happened." Ryou gestured to the mess on the coffee table and the floor. "I know that's not an excuse."

"They're just games. Don't worry about it. Besides, you know I have black outs too, and you never judge me for it." Yugi gave his friend a reassuring smile and placed the pieces Yami had given him on the table. "It's nice to have a friend that understands."

Ryou sat on his knees, fiddling with a red chip and studying at the logo stamped into the plastic with more interest than it deserved. "Yeah..." he sighed, sounding both resigned and relieved. "Thank you. Most people get really angry at me when it happens."

"Most people think I have dissociative identity disorder," Yugi commiserated.

Ryou barked half a laugh, "yeah, same here."

"You ever think they're right?"

Ryou's pale fingers turned the plastic chip over in his hand again. "I've never gotten diagnosed. It's possible I suppose." He placed the chip with its brethren, then picked up another one. "But, if I'm to be honest... really, I think I might be possessed."

"Like a demon possession?" Yugi looked about for anymore pieces within his reach. There didn't seem to be anymore.

"Demon or ghost. I'm not sure. Whatever he is... I don't think he's very nice." Ryou didn't look up as he confessed this.

"Well _you_ are super duper nice," Yugi chirped. "The nicest guy I've ever known, so I guess you'd balance each other out, huh? Besides, making a mess of my board games is pretty harmless, and you're helping me pick them up anyway."

"I guess." Ryou finished picking up the last few pieces and the Tic Tac Toe papers. He met Yugi's gaze, a blush on his cheeks and his left eye twitching in a usual spasm. He cocked his head a few times to make it stop. Upon standing up, he adjusted his glassed and swept his long white hair over his shoulder. "Thank you... for not freaking out, or calling me insane."

Yugi shut off the heated blanket, and set it aside. He grabbed his crutches from where they were leaning against the couch and, with a little effort, pushed to his feet. His teeth grit upon straightening up, but managed to steady himself without any help.

"We're friends," he assured.

No further explanation was needed.

The sense of understanding and relief that passed silently between them was one forged through shared circumstances. A solidarity that only they shared. This was a subject they never spoke of to their other friends.

Ryuji poked his head out of the kitchen just then, his vivid green eyes scanning the living room. Whatever he'd been looking for he appeared relieved a moment later when his eyes fell on Ryou and Yugi.

"I finished setting everything up. We're still playing Monster World, right?"

Yugi broke into a smile. "I'm game."

Ryou smiled too, albeit a little more reserved. "Me too."

0000

It was late in the evening when Yugi was finally alone.

Ryuji and Ryou had left, but the Monster World dioramas and figures were still on his table awaiting the next time they would come over to continue the campaign. The apartment was quiet, peaceful, and despite the rough start things had turned out good. Yugi was in a good mood when he hopped across the living room to the couch and gently lowered himself onto the cushions.

He looked at the mess of game pieces on the coffee table and his heart sank. Yami and him would have to start all over.

_Please don't be mad._

It suddenly occurred to him that he hadn't seen the white board all day. Yugi cast about trying to find it. It wasn't on the coffee table where he normally left it. Nor was it on the side table. He didn't spot it near or around the entertainment center.

He bent forward to search the ground when suddenly it popped out from under the couch, sliding over the carpet until it bumped the side of his foot.

' _Sorry'_ was written across the surface in red ink. All the other questions from before had been erased.

"Sorry? For what?" Yugi reached down to grab the board and almost touched it, but a pitch black hand darted out from under the couch and dragged the little white board back under.

The squeak of a dry erase marker could be heard. Then, a moment later the white board slid back out.

' _I'm sorry for throwing a tea kettle at Ryou.'_

Yugi didn't know what to say. The board disappeared again. More squeaking. Then it popped out again.

' _And for setting the towel on fire.'_

"You set my towel on fire?"

Once more the board was snatched by a shadow hand, only to return with another answer.

' _It was an accident. I was trying to shut the stove off.'_

Yugi's mind swam. He propped his elbows on his knees and held his head. Shivers were coursing down his spine, sparking his nerves like icy fingers. He wasn't so concerned about his towel, or even the kitchen. That had turned out fine. It was _this_. Right here. Right now.

Yami was talking to him. An actual conversation.

"It's alright. I'm not mad." He had the distinct impression he'd been saying the equivalent to that to a lot of people today. Anzu always scolded him for being so easy going, so ready to forgive everyone. But he found it too hard to be upset for any length of time, especially when things turned out alright in the end. "Why did you throw a tea kettle at Ryou, anyway?"

This time it took significantly longer for the board to reappear. The squeaking of the marker stopped and started several times before Yami slid his answer out for Yugi to read.

' _I heard you scream... I thought he was hurting you.'_

The concern was incredibly sweet, and a stupid smile curled Yugi's mouth despite himself. "Ryou wouldn't ever hurt me, so you don't have to worry. He's a really good friend."

There was a long handful of minutes that passed. When Yami finally responded, it was with a change of subject.

' _Why did you tell Kaiba about me?'_

Yugi kicked the foot on his good side idly, and picked up one of the checkers pieces from the coffee table. He rolled it around in his hand, tracing his thumb around the textured edge. "I didn't want too. Ryou let it slip, and I couldn't think of a better explanation than the truth. It's not like he believed us anyway." He tilted his head, staring down at the space beneath the couch. "Why didn't you prove it to him?"

' _I am not some magic parlor trick. I will not perform simply because you ask me to._ '

"That's fair, I spose," Yugi sighed. "I'm sorry for putting you on the spot. I hope we can still be friends."

' _Friends_.' This time when the board appeared, there was a red checkers piece included under the response.

"Did you want to play again?" Yugi straightened up, hands reaching out to rearrange the pillows. There might have been an edge of excitement in his voice. The idea that Yami might play a game with him in real time for once had him more thrilled than any visit from his family or friends the past few days. "I'm sorry they got messed up. I hope you don't mind starting over."

' _You need not keep apologizing to me, Little One. We can start again. I would love to play.'_

His whole face turned down in a frown. _Little One!?_ Righteous indignation flared within him. "What sort of nickname is that?" he asked, "You couldn't think of a better one?"

' _I don't think you would be any more receptive to my other names for you.'_

"Why? Do you also call me a hobgoblin?" That might have come out a bit sassier than intended, but he'd spent his whole life being the butt end of short jokes, and now his anger was traveling down familiar paths. "Or am I a midget? Half-pint? ...Junior Cheeseburger," he grumbled the last name because it was something Jonouchi had coined for him recently at a burger joint.

Yami tugged on Yugi's sock to recapture his attention, and a shadow finger poked the white board sporting the new response.

' _Because my other names for you are more affectionate.'_

The fire of irritation doused only to feel a different sort of flame under his skin. Heat burned Yugi's cheeks and ears. He reread the message three more times before responding with a soft, "oh..." When he swallowed it was like the muscles in his throat had gone stiff. It took longer than he would have liked to form a proper response. "M-maybe you should try them anyway. I might l-like them."

' _Perhaps.'_

"Ya know I'm pretty jealous Ryou got to see you before I did," he gave a mock pout, leaning his cheek on one fist. "I was too busy writhing in agony to steal a glimpse."

And aura of guilt so acute and all-consuming washed over Yugi. It was as if someone pushed him under the surface of a pond. The feeling choked the breath from his lungs, and swamped his mind like dark murky waters. It was like nothing he had ever felt before.

' _I could... right now.'_

Yugi gasped for an unsatisfying breath. He'd barely read the words when all of the shadows beneath the couch seemed to ooze. An inky blackness shot along the floor to the corner of the room among the shelves, to a place where the shadows were thickest. There it stretched and rose, crawling up the uneven surface, formless at first but pulling together into something more human in shape.

A void black foot stepped out, separating itself from the natural shadows, and Yugi clapped both hands over his eyes.

"Don't!" He yelled, voice high and cracking, but he'd finally found his words amidst the choking guilt.

He didn't dare uncover his eyes.

"I-I don't want to see you like this!"

The sudden onslaught of emotion receded. Yugi sucked in a gasp of air on impulse, even though he'd always been able to breathe. Only now did it feel like the air filled his lungs instead of suffocating them.

On his second breath he noticed that in the absence of guilt, something else overwhelmed him. Something sharper and raw. It settled hard in his chest and bit at his heart like teeth.

_Pain... and rejection._

"I want you to show yourself on your own terms. Not because you feel bad, but because you trust me. Do it because you want me to see you..." he sucked in a shuddering breath and felt the pain around his heart fall away. Like the guilt before, it receded, running out of his body akin to water through a sieve. Until finally he felt like himself again.

Just Yugi.

He still kept his hands over his eyes. Determined to give the ghost as much time as it needed to retreat back into hiding.

"Let's not do this today," he continued more calmly now that there weren't any phantom emotions choking him. "Maybe not even tomorrow. But when you are ready, I'd love to see you. And so long as you don't jump out and scare me... I promise I won't scream."

He felt something brush his foot; it sent an involuntary shudder up his leg muscles. Very carefully he peeked through his fingers. His heart hammered in his chest as he did so.

The room was empty. A quick peek at the corner confirmed that the shadows were back to normal. Only natural shadows. Yugi glanced down at his foot and saw the white board resting next to his socked toes.

' _Thank you.'_

His chest tightened at those words. "Do you want to play Checkers now?" Yugi was already laying out the board, and placing the pieces in the proper spots.

' _Yes'_ The response had barely been visible for a second before it was snatched back, a squeak of marker, then the board pushed out again with the addition of, ' _just so long as you close your eyes when it's my turn_.'

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I’m serious about that Flareshipping. I’ll make it Yugi-centric Flareshipping and everything. So keep your salty bitching to yourself. I’m sick of getting an inbox full of complaints. 
> 
> (If you like Flareshipping this is not an invitation to whine about Kaiba. You can just say you support Flareshipping. I’ll be cool with that.)


End file.
